Bites and Burns
by ruwai
Summary: Part II of 'The Wolf and the Dragon.'
1. Chapter 1: Breaks

**For new readers. Part I of this story is 'The Wolf and the Dragon'. Won't make much sense without the first part. Sorry for the time. Fairly certain that my brain has become that green stuff leaking out of my ear, so I am sorry also about the editing. Final papers and exams…Holy moly!**

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**Chapter One – Breaks**

Robb stroked the smooth skin of his silver-haired girl. Her shining tresses of course were pushed up against his face, he almost smiled into them, finding it funny that she had taken to sleeping on top of him with her legs draped over either side of him and her head tucked against his neck. As though as were trying to weigh him down to keep him from floating away in the night. The reason he found it particularly funny was because, with her small frame, she may well have been a feather's weight to him. But his good-humour was tinged to be sour by the fact that the reason for his staying awake as long as he could and holding her as tightly as he did, was so that he could reassure himself that he was truly with, that she was not a dream.

When Robb felt her breath flutter against the nape of his neck he felt the calm of knowing that she was there, her heart was beating against his. She was alive. More than that she was eating more, there were more of her breasts, more of her hips, her arms, her thighs, more of her for him to cling to and to love. She had taken care of herself, it filled him with an immense sense of gratification that she was healthy.

It had been just over a week since he had returned to Riverrun and already too much had happened. Through all of the insanity and intensity of war Myra was the unwavering point that continued to offer him some sense of peace and grounding. Even more now that Jaime Lannister was gone.

She had ploughed herself into him, and he had nearly fallen over by the force of her momentum but thankfully he caught his footing and happily indulged her attack. After practically wrenching himself away from Myra's warm hold Robb had, with his arm wrapped around a suddenly blushing Myra, released the Kingslayer into the custody of Brienne of Tarth. This came as much of a surprise to all of those who were not present at the negations at King's Landing. Everything regarding the freeing of the Kingslayer, the task assigned to him and the consequences were agreed upon, the Maid of Tarth had been a happy marrying of means.

The Lannister had been allowed loose to find and deliver Sansa and Ayra Stark to Robb at Winterfell within the next twelve months. Tywin would continue to be held at Casterly Rock by Lady Mormont and her troops, with a small reinforcement of troops in the Riverrun, should the need arise for them. Judging by the size of Brienne and his mother's recommendation the Lady of Tarth was a fair substitute for the bannermen Robb had been going to send along with the Lannister in order to keep the incestuous blonde on task.

When Jaime had been brought before him Robb had been in the middle of civilly reprimanding his uncle for chaining the Lannister so below his station and explaining the terms of peace to his lords. He recalled the words the prisoner's twin had uttered to him on the eve of Robb's leaving the capital of the South.

"I will give you the same advice that I gave your father. You play this game, you win or you die." She had spoken words as soft as butter, eyes as arrogant as her brothers'.

"No my lady," Robb had considered her lofty stance for a moment before speaking a calmly as he could "as your advice seems less than sound considering where my father ended up, I'll teach you something every babe in the North learns… in the grand scheme of things you survive. Preferably together and with honour, but any road when Winter comes you find a way to survive, there is no other winning." Robb had bit out a sour smile and left with his fellows and Grey Wind, who had growled as the departed.

"Beast…" he heard muttered as they had left. Robb did not know if she was referring to him or his wolf but either way it made him want to grin.

The night had he had encountered Jaime Lannnister at Riverrun again, Cersei's statement made Robb want to full out laugh. He wished that she could have seen her beloved brother, who looked more beast than man with his overgrown beard and near feral eyes. Robb had wanted to laugh right up until the moment he had finally noticed that Myra, had without drawing attention, approached the Lannister, who had been still out of earshot and playfully jabbed at the blond man's shoulder only to seem let down by what the prisoner said to her.

"Lannister!" Robb had burst out across the hall that he and his party had gathered in, "you're looking well…" he had walked towards his wife and the other man. With some well-placed rumbles from Grey Wind and selected pieces of information, namely that war would break out and that current the ruin of Jaime's honour would be nothing compared to that if he should fail in his task. Also he heavily implied a personal grantee of a hunt and pain and death, claiming to have potential to adopt a taste for flaying that the Boltons so enjoyed engaging in.

He had gone with Myra and his mother to visit his ailing grandfather and thank the older man for the crown he that he had forged for him. Hoster Tully was someone that Robb no longer recognized and the older man darted between recalling his family to forgetting himself. Myra had excused herself when Robb had gone to visit Bran and Rickon, it had grown quite late and she claimed that she was tired. In the few hours he had been in RIverrun, they had been practically inseparable since he had arrived and now she was leaving, just down the hall, but it had felt as painful as though he would never see her again. He had held her violet gaze for as long as he could bear it, he leaned into kiss her again. He could tell she was not saying all that she was thinking, but he decided to leave that for when they were alone. Myra and he alone, had definite appeal to Robb. It had started off innocent, it had been meant to be a gentle kiss farewell but had turned into her legs wrapped around his waist, her hands buried in his hair and her back against the wall in an empty hallway.

"Bran and Rickon can wait…" he had groaned against the softness of her skin. The smell of her, the feel of her, really there before had no comparison to anything he could drum up in his mind.

She had stiffened and drew her fingers out of his unruly hair, he had almost whimpered at the loss of her touch "Robb" she dropped her legs from around his waist and he moved them away from the wall, though he continued to her small form off the ground flush against his body.

"Mmm" he had mumbled against her neck, knowing already what she was going to say. She pulled back from him, bracing her hand against his shoulders. She was smiling, as her violet eyes had roamed over his scruffy face. Myra had softly traced the pad of her finger over his cheek.

"I'm happy, you've come back to me" she spoke quietly with so much sincerity Robb could feel his insides simultaneously melt and burst into flames.

"Always" he could do nothing but smile widely and genuinely in return.

Following that she had shooed him off to his brothers, and had clearly become the favourite of Grey Wind once again. In the short time that they had returned his wolf had taken to staying at either Silver's or Myra's side, or at least being within view of them. Even his mood had improved, as many men did not seem to tremble at the sight of the large, once irritable, grey wolf. Bran and Rickon were already asleep, and Robb had gone immediately back to Myra, who he had found in her shift hugging his wolf. He had moved to stand behind her and had found his place at her shoulder again "I'm so tired" his nose rested at the curve of her neck, his lips had brushed her warm flesh. He could feel Myra tremble against him. "I love the feel of your skin in my teeth, my little dragon" he bit the lightly marked spot on her shoulder "You revive me…" he tongue lapped gently against her.

That night they had come together. Resting and relishing inside the warmth of one another. The next morning in a clear, covered jar on the table by the bed he had noticed the leech. She had taken her place atop him, her fingers were tickling down the veins of his outstretched arms to distractedly trace the lines in his palms. "We always have to tell each other about our thoughts and plans, Robb" Myra's soft breath fanned out against the skin of his chest "it is not that I do not trust you, sometimes I feel as though I already know what you are thinking and feeling but I cannot read your mind or see into the future and I do not ever want to not understand you…"

Right then he had told her all that had happened in King's Landing, with Tywin, his reasons for releasing Jaime, his plans to return North "I want my sisters to come back to their safe and familiar home, not some unstable encampment of men finding to gain their home back…" Then he told her about having to take five firstborn and highborn Lannister sons between the ages of five and ten from their different families, ripping them away their own beloved and familiar versions of Winterfell. he had stopped for a moment to mulling over what all that he had done since this had begun, his own pain at the loss of Winterfell. "…sometimes I think I should not have left at all…" he confessed to his silver-haired wife.

He had been grateful that she did not offer an opinion, only carried on tracing the lines that she found on him. He had not wanted an opinion only a someone to tell.

She had told him about speaking to his grandfather, learning basic combat skills from Brienne and Meera, Rickon's dreams and teachings, Jojen the greensighted boy, the vision of the leech, Bran's shunning of her, and sighed before she gave reason for her being shunned. She explained how her acquaintance with the Kingslayer had developed. Robb found that as she went on describing a silent rage began blooming in his chest, noticeable only through the clenching of his jaw.

He was torn between finding his uncle then beating him for creating a situation where Myra's character would come into play in such a way and finding the Kingslayer and doing more a little more than beating him for… it did not matter for what. Robb just felt sure that the Kingslayer need bloodying up. If not for the reason that he deserved it, then that the blond parasite had affected the close relationship between Bran and Myra. Robb had recalled Myra's sudden 'tiredness' when he had wanted to see the boys.

As though she had been able to tell what he thinking she had spoken "Please do not blame anyone… and please do not force Bran to speak with me, he will when he's ready…" Robb had clucked his tongue against his teeth irritated and unsure "I'm sure of it" she had responded. Robb had opened his mouth to speak but nothing came "You do not have to say anything. I was just telling…"

Robb smiled to himself, "I did not know dragons could read minds…"

"Yours can."

He had let out a soft snort then moved her up his body to look up into her violet eyes, "You're not going to leave those kids alone are you…"

She had worn her own smile in response, though her gaze told him that she could see what was troubling him "No I won't." Those kids would need someone, and Robb could not be that person, he had to keep a distance as his own father had with Theon, any day not when he could have their blood on his hands…

"Good" he had replied, lifting his head to kiss her.

Three days later they had nearly been shadows of one another, stuck happily together and not so happily, within those three day was the passing of Sansa's fourteenth name-day. Myra had spent time with Robb, but he was most grateful for her taking time, some hours for Rickon and his mother, she had tried with no avail with Bran. She had told them that they would be together soon. Following where the other made to go, but Robb had decided to spend some time with Bran that afternoon. Grey Wind, of course had gone with Myra to where they had made plans to meet in the godswood. On his way to meet her had decided to pick her some flowers, remembering a dream he had while he was away from her.

He did not see her in the godswood and before a full panic could rise in him, Robb heard the sound of laughing and some truly horrible humming and singing in the near distance. He had followed the sound of her voice beyond a small thicket of trees, into a clearing of grass with a bubbling stream of water border a side of it. He had been planning on at playfully teasing her, maybe even laughing at her. But whatever clever statement he had conjured up had faded, she was spinning and leaping and giggling. "Come on girl," she to be trying to prompt an unmoved Silver, and then an even less cooperative Grey Wind when she failed. "Fine" she sang out moving, her feet moved lightly, and her hair floating like silver mist around her.

Robb had not wanted to disturb her, but found that he could not stay away, he moved without thinking dropping the flowers. He had come up behind her and had caught her just when she had leapt, startling her. "Robb!" she had cried when she figured out what had happened, "you scared me to death!"

"Not death…" He turned her in his arms and swayed, leading her in the small bit of one of the few dances that he had learned as a child, it was only dance that he slightly remembered. Holding her close, violet meeting grey he had asked "What were you dancing too?"

She shrugged "The sound of the stream, the birds, the wind in the leaves, the music in them…"

Myra had looked at him, her gaze seemed to ask if he could hear what she did. He had not so he questioned "What were you singing?" as they spun. The lack of his grace made up for by hers.

"You heard that" she had blushed and had stopped looking up at him, clearly embarrassed.

"No need to be embarrassed. Sing again, it was lovely…"

"Please" she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "My mother used to tease me about it. Her voice was beautiful, clearly that…" she had stopped speaking. Robb knew why, he knew what she had been about to say 'that was not passed on'.

"My father could belt a ballad out like no one I knew, I can't carry a tune. But your voice is beautiful. Sing again…" her burning defiant eyes had shifted back to him. "Please…" he begged.

As they moved around the grassy space, she opened her mouth and instead of a 'no' her soft voice came out. She sang along to the music she heard and through her Robb was able to hear the music too. When she was not overexerting her voice, though it was not empirically remarkable, she sounded soothing in a way that made Robb fall in love with the sound.

They had sat under the tree where Robb had dropped his flowers, when they had needed a rest from dancing. Robb had leaned against the tree with Myra's back against his chest and her body sat between his legs. Grey Wind had tried laying over Myra, as he had taken to doing since they come back to the Riverlands. Silver had curled against his wolf's body, they looked comfort and Myra had not seemed to mind so Robb said nothing. It had been peaceful, he stroked her hair and shoulders, as she quizzed him on where he had learned to dance and then his thoughts. When his grey gaze had landed on flowers again, he remembered his dream and reached for them careful to not disturb Myra. Robb told her of crushing the steward's daughter, Jeyne Poole, and poor feet when he forgot his steps and had chased Jon around the hall for laughing. They had gone on talking and Robb had kept Myra from spying on what he had been doing. She had asked once. Leaving it and trusting him when he said she would see in time.

"I can see why you approved the crown…"

"Which crown?" She had asked.

"Mine" he had answered as though it had been obvious.

She burrowed back against him, appearing to be seeking comfort. "Well, it suits you… and the weight?"

"That suits me too…not like my father's sword… that was much heavier than I thought…" her fingers, that had been tracing fingers against his thigh squeezed in a supportive gesture, though it was wordless Robb could feel the warmth of her love. When he was ready he carried on, hand behind his back "I was thinking for you…"

She had twisted her body around to face him violet eyes set ablaze with fear, Grey Wind lifted his head in response. "'Please don't, it won't fit me the way it does you…"

"Shhh" he stopped her tongue with his teeth, kissing and drawing her closer to his body. "You forget I've known you my whole life…" he had half-joked, while her expression filled with wonder. "I tried to picture with a crown. Grandfather Hoster, had a plain band of wrought silver with the runes of the first men made of you as well." Myra's face had pinch in discomfort. "But…" he continued "I could not picture in one, even before he had shown it to me" he had pulled his arm out from behind his back. "This" he had placed the wreath that he had woven on her head. "is all I can see you in… beautiful, you have improved it" he had at her smiled "and now I can give you something every day, like you give me…" Myra had a look that changed from surprise to one of disbelief that Robb could not quite understand. "What is it, little dragon?"

She had lifted her fingers to the wreath on her head, violet eyes fixed on Robb's grey ones "Is this real?"

"Of course it is, love." His burrow had furrowed in question.

She had thrown her arms around his neck, her mouth melt against his, their bodies melted into one another.

"I knew you could see me…" she had whispered breathlessly against his lips, between soft kisses she carried on "I can always feel your eyes following me, you set my skin on fire…" their foreheads pressed together, mouths so close they were breathing each other's air, her legs straddling his lap.

"I dreamed you…" he had murmured into her hot flesh. "I always feel you…" his hips jutted up towards her heat of their own. He had tugged at the fabric on the shoulder of her dress so that his teeth could graze over her collarbone. She groaned grind herself against him.

"I dreamed you too."

It happened so quickly, he was free of his breeches and her skirts were pulled up around her waist. She ground herself against him, pulling at his neck so his lips smashed on to her neck "Touch me" Myra gasped.

Shot of excitement had run through Robb, he dug his hands beneath the fabric the thought was that he would not have torn it off, but he's plans with her never seemed to work. Before he knew it the front of her dress had been ripped open, and the soft skin of her breast was in his mouth. Her fingers were buried in his dark hair and her moans drove him wild, as she took him in deeper and deeper with each in sync beat of their hips. His tongued lapped at her smooth flesh, leaving wet trials over the heat over her skin, the flat of his teeth tugged at her delicious taste. All too soon he had been spilling into her, angling himself to hit at her just right and catapulting her over the edge with him, a cry up rushed out of her throat she collapsed, closed eyed, against his sweat cover neck.

Her silver hair and the flower of his wreath had pressed against his nose, he inhaled utterly satisfied for the time being, he all craved more his addiction seemed to be growing.

"What do I give you every day Robb?" her warm breath puffed out on the scruff of his throat.

Robb had inhaled her intoxicating scent and spoke as his thoughts came to him "Something to live for, I want a future with you, so you give me a reason to be smart for and think about what's to come... because of that you give me an idea of how to treat people."

She had replied by licking and biting at the skin of his neck, and giving him cause to satisfy his craving again.

That was the last day before everything had begun spinning out of control. Lothar Frey, or "Lame Lothar" of the Twins, had arrived the next day to inform them that Winterfell had been burned to the ground by the Greyjoys, in an attempt to keep the Bolton forces, led by Roose Bolton's legitimatized bastard, Ramsey from having anything to salvage upon attack. At that very moment Robb had decided to send the troops who were not set to stay in the South, North across the Twins. The plans for Edmure's wedding were hastened and Robb and his family under the express wishes of Lord Frey was asked to attend the wedding at the Twins. Catelyn had urged Robb to accept these demands, as he had already slighted the Freys.

The next day Hoster Tully had passed away. Robb had sunk for a while into a mire of sadness and loss. Blaming himself for all that had happened, until Myra drew him out, reminding him of the course of life and the choices of others.

Two days before this night now, Robb had a gotten in a situation where Bran had yelled for him not to leave for the Twins. Robb had tried reasoning with the boy and had decided it would be best if Bran and Rickon stayed at Riverrun as the Twins seemed to upset Bran so. He had also refused to take Summer with him to the wedding. Myra had to stay behind as well to avoid any extra tension with the Freys. She had overheard and Robb had been forced to refuse her request to take Silver along with him.

Now on the eve of leaving Robb did not want to move from been his silver-haired girl. He wanted to stay until she absorbed him into her very body and soul, but alas he had to appease his role and place. He breathed in deeply taken as much of her in as he could, "I love you little dragon" he muttered into her soft hair.

"I love you too, Robb…more than anything" she suddenly spoke against his neck, clearly unable to sleep, afraid of him evaporating away as well "more than everything…" she lay as soft kiss against the skin of his shoulder above his heart.

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**Phew! Hopefully tomorrow, next chapter. Thanks to everyone who comments, you make the world look better when school kills.**


	2. Chapter 2: Not There

**Hello again! A big thanks for the support. Again disclaiming myself all the way out. Go G. R. R. Martin! Go!**

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**Chapter Two - Not There**

The sleeplessness had returned as soon as Robb had left again. That afternoon, following his departure, Myra had fooled herself into thinking she could last at least a few hours in the dark without him. Yet here she lay blinking her violet gaze up at the ceiling, the smell of him lingered there around her but it was not enough. She needed him and now that he was gone yet again it was even more clear how much. She ran her fingers over her trembling stomach, the fear she had felt when he had left at last time, had crept back in and was turning her belly inside out.

Most of Robb's troops had crossed the Twins under Lord Rodrick to free as much of the North lands as possible, while Bryden "Blackfish" Tully remained as Warden of the Southern Marches, with a reserve of troops, to watch over Riverrun and the Riverlands. The wedding of Lord Edmure was moved with 'as much haste as possible' to four nights from this very one. Because he had to meet up with his remaining reinforcements returning from around Harrenhal and would move slower as a result of the extra men, Robb had left early to make the relatively short journey.

Catelyn had gone with him, for a time Myra had been scared for the older woman, especially after the death of her father and the passing of Sansa's name-day. Myra had spent that day with her, hearing about how Sansa had red hair like her own, and Ayra favoured her father, looking and acting as her aunt Lyanna had. Myra had heard of how Ned adored Catelyn's hair, a trait Myra amusingly saw paralleled in his son. She had listened as Catelyn described how Sansa and Ayra shared characteristics beneath their differences, that they were children of the North... Myra heard more that had made Lady Stark nostalgic, the older woman had much to say…

Following the events of those days, came the news of Winterfell. Myra had worried for Maester Luwin, with his many chains marking his extensive leanings, Tyella, Mena, Egon, Meeran and everyone she had or had not met, who suffered at Winterfell. She prayed for their safety and felt ill for their pain; she mourned for the safety she had felt at the great fortress. And hoped that a place remained for the men decimated at King's Landing to be honoured and finally rest their bones.

Lady Catelyn also mourned but was able to draw strength from her grief. It seemed that, like Robb, she had become determined to regain her home; the place she had built a life with her beloved Ned. Catelyn as strategic warrior was fierce and had a mind that reminded Myra of the great generals she had read about as a child. That aligned with Robb's own mind well.

They had both chosen to let Jaime go. Myra remembered seeing him more gaunt, with skin so pale it was nearly translucent, eyes as cutting as ever. She had tried to lightened the initial mood by addressing him as 'Jim' but was only given a sneer and what felt like a blow to her gut in the form of a threat in return. "I swear to the gods Birdy if you do not get away from me right now I will find something sharp to kill you with…" that had dropped the hopefully smile right from Myra's face.

"You don't mean that…" she had replied.

His green eyes held her violet for a moment before he spoke "…you know I think I do see some of the King's madness in there…I already told you that I am not a fool..." She had asked the guards escorting him not to react, Robb had reacted enough moments later. Jaime had listened to the conditions of peace as agreed upon with humour rather than seriousness, until Robb arrived at the terms for Jaime's release. Myra felt a pang of dread for Brienne, though the Lady of Tarth was thrilled to have a true quest and knightly mission, the violet-eyed girl knew Jaime and so knew that he would not make it easy for her truly wonderful and huge friend.

Robb's treatment of Jaime was fairer than Edmure's and pleased Catelyn, but something about it made Myra not quite comfortable with telling Robb the specifics of the conversations she had with Jaime or about the threats he made. She was sure that Robb would have killed Jaime and would have lost his best hope for Sansa and Ayra. The threat Robb had made had filled Myra with an odd sense of pride and disturbance. Robb had told her that his old Nan at Winterfell had raised him on stories of rooms in Dreadfort, filled with the skins of flayed Stark men and women from the Bolton rebellions centuries ago, that even now there were rumours...

Myra sighed. She found it strange she was used to being alone but loosing someone was a very different matter to being alone. Myra felt at a loss. With Brienne, even Jaime still, Catelyn and Robb gone her number of distractions were dwindling. Meera had remained at Riverrun to watch over Jojen, following his vision of the leech she had begun trailing him again. Jojen was usually with Bran, and so was Osha. Rickon was also spending more time with his brother and the children from the Lannister houses, which Myra found difficult to be upset about, especially as the socialization seemed to deter the torment that he encountered from his visions. 'And at least he continues to study', Myra thought to herself.

Silver must have sensed Myra's distress this night, and rose to lay next to her girl, resting her head atop Myra's stomach easing away some of the tension she felt. Her weight was less than Grey Wind's, who had become impossibly more enormous, which gave Myra pause to realize once again that everyone's wolves had grown though not as drastically as Grey Wind. Shaggydog was still fierce and stocky, Summer astute and stealthy and Silver lean and intuitive.

And though Myra found Silver's presence reassuring and calming, she continued to miss the yellow-eyed wolf's his heavier form. According to Robb, the large wolf had been in nothing but a foul mood, terrifying his men left and right, at times he said that he had felt like Rickon trying to control Shaggydog. Other than when he was threatening Jaime, Myra had not seen Grey Wind behave bad-temperedly, he had always been affectionate to her and calm around others. Myra knew Silver missed Robb and Grey Wind as well.

She patted her wolf's head and wondered what made her so different from the others. Her mind wandered to Osha. Osha, who had threatened Bran's life and was now one of his closest comrades. Osha, who had been discovered in the woods too, but had no relationship with Robb other than worker and lord. Such little differences and large gaps in outcomes. And because of these Myra knew why Bran would not forgive her…

A sudden wall of loss hit Myra again. She could not breathe, she missed him, her Robb, with a sharp twist in her heart. She wanted this to be over, to go back to their talks and walks and life in the North. His mark on her shoulder ached. She thought of dancing and the wreath, her dreams had come true, his grey eyes could see her and that was both troubling and comforting. Myra had not wanted him to leave, neither had Bran. Robb was stubborn, Myra's stomach flipped, apparently so was she.

She thought of what Robb had said about his visit to King's Landing. Before the men had left the Southern capital, he said that the King's mother had told him to 'give the Targaryen girl the Iron Throne's best.' Robb had smiled when he told the story, saying that he had replied just as he left "if I find a Targaryen I will tell her so… Oh! And do not worry about sending my wife any courtesies, she is a Stark, we prefer honest words." Myra smiled to herself at this, she could hear his voice in her ears and finally her eyes fluttered closed until a few hours later, when she woke up screaming silently into a dark room.

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Myra was lost to everything but him. The feel of him against her skin as she straddled him, the ragged sounds of their breathing, the heat of his kiss, his bite down her neck as he gripped her hips tighter to halt her movements, his grey eyes filled with hunger and love staring up at her. "Little dragon…"

"Only yours," Myra moaned, her body desperate to feel him move inside her again.

"Mine," he breathed, as he thrust himself up all the way inside her. Myra's eyes rolled back into her head at the sensation of him stretching and filling her womb. The world around them disappeared as she began moving; pulling him in deeper with each swivel and thrust of her hips.

"I belong to you." She murmured "And you belong to me. Come back to me Robb…" she fell forward to kiss his lips. "Come back…" she recoiled as her kiss met ripped skin, she saw his teeth broken in his mouth, his tongue cutout, his eyes red with blood, holes that his insides were leaking out of. She felt his fingers turn into bloody stumps against her stomach, nails torn and bone exposed. With frantic hands Myra tried pushing him back in, back together, there was flames eating away at her burning the skin off of her body but she could not feel the pain of it, the only pain she felt was seeing Robb there dying with nothing she could do.

Tears stung her eyes, this time her screams were not silent, half of Riverrun woke up to the sounds of her terror. Meera had burst in and calmed Myra down. Myra eventually convinced Meera to leave her alone for the rest of the night.

Myra lay back in her empty room, the leech was now her only companion in it. Silver had left the day after Robb's departure and, according to Rickon and Meera, so had Summer. She sympathized with the twinge of betrayal Bran must have been feeling. It had been three days since Robb had left and things had not become any easier, she knew that she had become a shell of herself in that short time. Myra tried easing her stomach again by rubbing it, but without Silver's help she was having a hard time of it. She needed Robb's heartbeat under her ear, his warmth, his smell…

She traced her fingers over the fabric on her belly, as she had traced the lines on Robb's war worn palms. Myra had run her fingers over them but could not bring herself to examine his palms too closely, her the anxiety rooted deep within her flared whenever she tried. She wondered if that was the case with 'this'.

Myra thought back to hugging Catelyn privately after her father's funeral. The older woman had looked at her curiously, pulling back to taken in her body, her blue eyes landing on Myra's breasts. Myra had been embarrassed, it was normal before her moon's blood for her breasts to swell a little and for her stomach to hurt a little. She did not realize it was so noticeable though. Myra thought at first Catelyn was recognizing that her moon's blood was on its way, when the older woman had asked Myra when she last had her monthly bleeding.

In all honesty Myra could not remember for the life of her, she was sure that it had to have been a month ago. Catelyn did not look so certain, she had touched Myra's flat stomach. "A blessing…" Myra had placed her hand over Catelyn's, full of wonder "a baby…" Catelyn had smiled.

Myra had shaken her head. Her moon's blood was due, her breasts were swelling for that reason, her stomach churned for that reason, she did not want to worry Robb for no reason. She had begged Catelyn not to tell her Robb. Catelyn had reluctantly agreed, but the change in her had been undeniable, her belief in this event had added to the list of reasons that had caused the older woman to become so focused on regaining the North.

No matter the reason Myra was glad for Catelyn's determination and grateful for her silence. The silver-haired girl could not bear to raise or crush her Robb's hope, especially on a matter she was not certain about.

But if Myra was honest with herself she did not think she bare crushing her own hope either, if she admitted 'this', then she would have to face it if it were not true. She only wished that she could remember when her last bleeding had happened, she tried to think back over the past months but nothing was coming. As she thought of it she realized that what she wished more was that her mother was with her. Myra wondered if she had children, true children with wispy brown hair and deep blue eyes with kind, soft, quick voices.

'True children' Myra's stomach clenched. Had her mother been forced to give up her real babes, for one bastard born of another? No. It was not as simple as that. In her heart Myra knew that her mother loved her, no more or less than any other child she could or may have had. Myra wanted her there, her comfort and advice, she felt sure her mother would know tell Myra of what to look for in her body, in her life that could tell her of what was to come. Myra did not know when her eyes closed again but she tried very hard to keep them from shutting, terrified of what she may see should sleep take her.

* * *

It was the day that Lord Edmure would become a husband to a Frey girl. Myra had apologized once again to her adopted uncle before he had left RIverrun. The red-bearded man had smiled, before embracing her "it is worth it, as crazy as you appear to be…" he had whispered to her with a chuckle. She knew he was referring to her dealings with Jaime, then with fighting practice with Brienne and Meera.

Night had fallen and Myra was in her room with the leech, who had started squirming in its jar Myra had moved the clear glass to the ground worried that it ramming against the cage would cause it fall and shatter on the floor. She sat with Robb's cloak wrapped around her body, warming her hands at the hearth in her chamber, it had been a day with particularly bone-chilling wind blowing in from the North. The wind had been had been filled with too much ice to remind Myra anything of home and had felt harsh against her cheeks.

Meera knocked and entered her room when invited. "Hello Myra" she smiled at the violet-eyed girl, though she could not mask the concern in her eyes. The screams of the previous night had Meera worried enough over Myra to leave her brother's side for the day and now the night.

"Come get warm" Myra gestured to a place next to the fire. Though she knew Meera was checking up on her up on her Myra was happy to have a friendly anyone to talk to.

"It was freezing today" the green-eyed girl acknowledged the cold, as she moved towards the fire. Myra had noticed a small bundle in Meera had hands, but waited for Meera to bring it up, which did not take very long. The browned-hair girl's fingers jittered over the bundle and the concern in her eyes was replaced with anticipation. "I have something for you…" she held the bundle out to Myra, who took it graciously. "It…" Meera cut herself off as Myra began unwrapping the cloth, "Wow! That leech is real bouncing off of its walls…" clearly surprised enough by the leech to be distracted.

"Yes its…" Myra stopped in her own explanation, when she realized what she unwrapped. Her mouth fell open as she stared at the dragon-shaped black hilt overlaid with solid silver decorated with floral motifs belonging a dagger. She drew the single edged plain blade out of its scabbard, which was black fabric over wood, also decorated with silver floral patterns. Myra gaped up at Meera, who smiling now.

"I knew you would like it!"

"I cannot accept this from you, it is too fine a gift..."

"It is not from me" Meera saw Myra's confusion and continued, "days before Lord Tully passed away, he had called for me, which I found rather odd but he explained that he had a crown made for you and that his grace, King Robb, had said you would accept it but not like it. Lord Tully then asked me what you would like and I simply mentioned our practicing… and then that" she nodded at the blade "appeared at my door with his express instructions to give it to you when I saw fit…" Meera's face turned red "I must admit in all the excitement I forgot about it…until this morning when I recalled our practice…."

"Oh…" Myra looked down at the beautiful blade, she felt a surge of love for the old man. She sad that she had not gotten to know him as he was, but glad all the same to have known him at all. "No matter, thank you…" she spoke both to the gone Lord Tully and Meera.

"This is more for decoration," Meera grinned, speaking of the dagger "but if you keep practicing with other blades, you move up to sparring soon… Myra!"

Something had happened, Myra blinked her eyes and she was no longer looking at the blade as she had been moments ago. She blinked again the black dagger was in front of her again. Her vision was clouding she could her Meera's fuzzy voice in the distance, but far more clearly she could hear the sound of blaring music. She was low to the ground, blurring by landscape, much as when she had fallen asleep on the cart before finding Robb. The long grass brushed her body, someone was behind her keeping pace. Up, up, up, she leapt higher than she knew she could. "Myra!" Meera's voice called far away, past her hazy vision.

What is happening? Myra asked through a mouth that was not hers, that did not make her sounds when it opened. She could see red, taste red, and sack of meat fell. Grey Wind's yellow eyes sat caged before her, she broke him free with her teeth and they ran, ran, ran towards the sounds of music and screaming.

Oh gods! Summer and Grey Wind wasted no time, she did not either. Flashes of a grey hall, following a wedding and bedding feast, an old decrypted man laughing, Greatjon drunk and still fighting five men, his son's lifeless body not an arm's length away. Screams, screams, screams, pain and anger and blood and shit and fear.

Robb, where was he? Myra's stomach had vanished, her heart thudded in her ears. She could hear nothing else, only react. She tasted the red of any who were carrying weapons, any who looked like that laughing man. He had stopped laughing when she and her companions had entered. He was surrounded by seven archers, but she could still reach him, she could still, she could…

Myra vision fuzzed for a moment, Meera's sound was breaking through. "Gods! Myra!"

No! She had to find Robb. Three bounds and… something had changed, she could hear Catelyn's voice. "Let my son go, we can come to terms…" it blurred.

"No, mother…" Robb's gasping voice cut through, her violet-eyes saw him finally and her heart-stopped. A table had been flipped over him and he lay crumpled on the ground. Get to him! She thought to herself. Nothing else matters, just get to him!

"Think of Myra…" Catelyn's voice spoke to Robb. Myra was still tasting red after red, trying to get to him, her eyes not leaving him now that she had found him. Grey Wind had many men as Greatjon on him and Summer was fighting through as many as he could.

"Myra" his sound rang clearer than day in her ears. Robb gripped, white-knuckled to the table before him. Panting he stood, there were three arrows. His leg, his arm, his right side. His leg, his arm, his right side. She repeated to herself, her vision blurred. Again. His leg, his arm, his right side.

"A son for a son…" Catelyn's voice came through. Myra's leg stung. Grey Wind was howling, Robb, Robb, Robb.

"Kill the lack-wit," the decrypted man spoke, pointing to the little boy, with bells on his shoes that Catelyn had a knife to. "I care nothing for him…"

Myra moved, her leg would not let her leap as far but she bounded. As though out of thin air a pale man, with pale dead eyes, in pink armor that was spotted with red drops grabbed hold of Robb from behind. No. He raised a dagger above Robb's chest, above his heart. "No!" Catelyn's voice screamed. No. No. No. No. Myra did not have to force herself to run, she moved without thought. No. No. No. No.

"Jaime Lannister sends his regards" he the pale disgusting Bolton breathed harshly into Robb's ear.

Robb closed his grey eyes "Myra..." he barely moved his lips as the plunged the daggered down.

"NOOO!"

"No Myra!" a voice called from another world. Myra must have hit her head, down she fell. Down fell the sound of little bells. Her eyelids were becoming heavy. Her sight blurring in a different way. There was Lady Stark. Wailing, scratching the skin off of her face.

"Kill her someone…" the old man's voice broke through.

Please stop. Myra tried speaking. Someone make this stop. She could not move. Her head was too heavy for her body to carry.

Some bulk moved behind Catelyn, tugging on her red hair, exposing her throat "Not my hair" Myra remembered. Ned loved her hair.

Myra's vision went blank and all the sound left the world before a shriek of true horror woke her out of her trance. Myra flew down the halls of Riverrun. Summer had been there.

Summer had been there.

She could hear Shaggydog howling loud enough to wake all of the Riverlands, if the screaming had not done it already.

Rickon was in Bran's room when she arrived, looking petrified huddling into the warmth of his howling wolf. Bran was screaming, blinking but not seeing, his hair plastered with sweat to his head, his hands had been balled up into tight fists and he had wet himself and his sheets.

"Bran" Myra moved to him, she wrapped her arms around the boy as tightly as she could. It was not working, he screamed and gasped without really breathing. "Bran!" Myra began shaking him, trying to get him to wake out of his bloody nightmare. Shaggydog's howling with Bran's screams was too much. "Rickon!" Myra snapped her head to look at the younger boy, realizing she had spoken too harshly out of turn, when she saw his terrified little face covered with silent leaks from his eyes and nose. "Little pup" she spoke less hard, but loud enough for him hear and pay attention to her "Please help me, try to calm down Shaggydog…" the boy sniffed and nodded.

"Shh, Shaggydog. It's ok…" the wolf carried on howling.

"Bran…" Myra tried rocking the boy. His throat was so raw now that no sound was coming out, but he was still screaming without air. Myra rubbed his back, hugged him…

"Come on Rickon," Meera was there now "We'll try in another room…"

"No! I want to stay here…shh Shaggydog…"

Myra held Bran close and tried to think back what to her mother did when she would cry until she couldn't breathe. "Bran, my sweetheart…" Myra blew a stream of cold air out of her mouth against the boy's forehead, he immediately stopped struggling against her, she continued blowing cold air against the top of his head and his temples, while fanning the back of his neck with her hands. Rickon had managed to get control of Shaggydog by the time that Bran was shivering like a cold damp leaf in Myra's warm hold.

Bran pulled away from her a little, "My mother's dead" he spoke in his torn voice, breaking the unnatural quiet that had fallen.

"What?" Rickon's fearful, confused voice squeaked.

Myra's eyes followed Bran's down to his fists still squeezed but defeated in lap. "I know…" she echoed the words she had offered when their father had passed. They felt horrible, dry against her tongue. She could not think about that she had to keep moving. Bran opened his fists. Little red semi-circles seeped out into the crease of his palms. "You're bleeding" Myra wanted to cry as she lifted his small hands to her face.

"So are you…" he lifted his finger to draw a line tracing, from a distance, the red one across the left side of Myra chest.

Myra lifted her left hand up to the sudden burn she felt acutely above her heart. As she raised her arm she noticed that the left sleeve of her dress was charred and her hand was covered in soot, but her skin was unmarred. She gathered Bran into a hug again, confusion filling her violet eyes as she looked at Meera would now stood next to Rickon.

She shook her head. Gesturing Rickon closer so she could hug him too. There was no time for confusion now. She embraced her brothers. Now, she had to get to her Robb.

* * *

**Wednesday…hopefully. Friday… maybe**

**Really wanted to get this chapter up before watching the new episode. Had to record it and am excited to watch it today. Was it good? What did you think?**


	3. Chapter 3: Ræd Wedyng

**Friday…**

* * *

**Chapter Three – Ræd Wedyng**

I can't breathe. There's no time. I will breathe when I find him. No. Not if. WHEN. I won't let him leave me. He cannot leave me. I can't breathe. There's no time. He is my air, I will breathe when I find him. WHEN. Not if…

"Myra breathe…" Meera called over her shoulder, to the violet-eyed girl clinging to her on the back of a galloping horse. Myra tried, it must have been bad if even from in front of her Meera could tell she was in danger of falling off of the horse behind her. But she could not make herself. They had left that very night, Myra was not a good rider and Meera had offered to take her to the Twins, together they were light enough for a strong horse to carry at a gallop from Riverrun. Bryden had been confused, word had not yet reached the ancestral Tully house. Myra doubted that anyone other than she and Bran, outside of the Twins, knew what had happened. After calming Bran, Myra had let herself become crazed. Not knowing her own actions, moving as swiftly as she could, she had found a blanket from Catelyn's room and wrapped it around the boys. She had tried explaining, and apologizing, she promised their hollowed faces that she would send for them soon, that she loved them, yet she had still felt guilty as she left the drafty place. Osha had promised to watch out for them; she, along with Jojen, seemed to have a grasp of what horrors one could see through the eyes of another.

I can't breathe… the words had replayed in her head since… I do not care…I can't think, I can't breathe…

"Gods Meera…" Myra dug her forehead into the back of Meera green cloak, the pale blue scarf that she had also inexplicably picked out of Catelyn's room, whipped around her silver hair. She could still taste the red in her mouth, she could still feel him. I can't breathe… "Hurry…"

* * *

It had taken a day to get there, it was not soon enough for Myra. As soon as she saw the peaks of the Twins on the horizon, Myra had felt her stomach drop even further out of her body than before. As soon as her toes touched the ground of the rotting place, Myra wanted it to be a dream… all of it. But it wasn't, her heels landed and she ran… it was real. If Meera called after her Myra did not hear her, she ignored the ache in her legs.

Nothing she saw made sense, everyone before her was in her way, all else was second to Robb. "WHERE IS HE?" she had screamed at a faceless person. "YOUR KING" They had tired speaking, but she could not hear "TAKE ME TO HIM." She had poked and pushed and forced her guide to run, until…

There he was, laying lifeless on a bed, pale as chalk and covered in a sickly sheen, there were parts of him where splattered in red, making his skin all the more pale against the flickering torch light of the grim stone room. Myra tried walking towards him, but her knees became weak under her as she moved. She collapsed against him, kissing his motionless lips again and again, as though trying to pass her strength to him. The tears streamed off of her face, landing upon his closed eyelids. Myra squeezed her own eyes closed, she a felt a ghost of his breath against her lips. Her violet eyes snapped open and burned. He was not dead and she was not going to let him leave her.

"You belong to me…" she with mumbled with a watery smile against his mouth, she pressed a soft kiss into his skin "I am yours. Do not let go of me…" She closed eyes once more, taking in a breath through her nose, she clenched her jaw and found her balance.

She turned to the guide, who stood still at the door, seeing him now Myra recognized him as one of the Manderly bannermen. "If the Maester of this place was not a part of the plot please get him here with all haste."

The bannerman's expression flickered with confusion at the sudden shift in her demeanour, but he left all the same. Myra let her violet eyes fall back on her Robb, she allowed herself to gasp a little as she gently ran the backs of her fingers over his scruffy cheeks. "My wolf…" she breathed.

Her chest heaved as she took in another breath, and focused. She would have to face all of his aches and damages, better now than later. The blood still spattered on him, did not ease any of Myra's worries about the type of care he was receiving in this place. She raised the blanket covering him.

_His leg, his arm, his right side. _She felt a burn on the left side of her chest. _His heart…_

She wondered if she had looked fragile when he had watched over her. Myra could already feel herself struggling to keep herself together. She was dizzy. What should I do? How do I protect him?

She felt a familiar form brush against the back of her legs, bolstering her, letting her know where to look. Myra remembered vision of all the men on the direwolf but Grey Wind was a large and battle worn beast, so of course he had healed quickly. Myra wondered how she had missed his huge figure in the room, realizing now that she had also missed the violet eyes and grey fur hiding, nestled against Robb's side. She searched the room but there was no sign of Summer, another pang of worry hit her though Myra managed to weakly smile at her wolf "Good girl…" she was glad, at least, that Silver was keeping Robb warm.

Robb... as Myra observed more, she could tell that he was clearly not faring well. As seen with the poorly fixed and unchecked bandages… what would mother say? Myra thought back to that small cabin. All of those herbs, drying, picking, learning… Mother would say to throttle whatever incompetent fool did this…

"My lady…" a voice, Myra assumed belonged to the Maester of the Twins, called. It startled her. Myra had to keep reminding herself to breathe, the only trouble was that with each inhale she took it became all the more apparent that this was not a dream.

She did not want to think, she wanted to focus on fixing her Robb "Go get me clean bandages, at least three pails of hot water, towels, some more lamps, a needle and thread find Lobelia and Slippery Elm leaves and…" Myra shook her head trying to remember, she was having trouble concentrating again. Robb pale, cold skin made her shiver and her mind seize… "and the juice of at least four Dewney berries…" Myra finished. She frowned when she realized the Maester had not moved. "GO!" The shaky old man jolted as though struck by lightning, Myra's piercing glare followed him out of the room.

The silver-haired girl finally let her mauve eyes soften and go back to her Robb laying so helpless, so on the edge of… whether she was looking at him or not, she was certain for every moment he stayed as he was she died a thousand times over. She sat gently by him, lightly tracing the skin over his face, his lips "Robb, my love… please say something…" Myra begged "anything…" she was met with nothing. Myra bit her lips between her teeth, and sniffed, tears blurring her vision "that is fine, smart, save your strength, for later… very wise, my wise wolf." She lay another kiss, silently praying that her scent would awaken the life in him, as it had seemed to do so many times before.

"My Lady…"

Myra bolted up, sniffing and wiping her nose on the back of her dress sleeve. The Maester had returned with the Manderley bannerman helping him carry the items she had asked for, she removed Robb's cloak and Catelyn's scarf, "Good…" Silver moved off of the bed as the Manderley bannerman set the lamps around the room and Myra and the Maester began working. Once all of Robb wounds had been tend to and covered in slave to try to draw out any infection, Myra did not give the relived looking Maester a chance to relax, even though he was unconscious Robb's face was contorted in a way that made Myra's heart sick.

When she turned her violet gaze to land on the timid older man in his Maester's robes her anger flared. "Are you the man who did that?" She did not know exactly what the inflection in her voice had been as she referenced Robb's previous bandaged state, but the man flinched. His chains glinted in the torch light and Myra could not help but notice that it was missing more than a few links, particularly in the medical region. "What sort of a Maester are you!" she breathed harshly, knowing exactly why he had flinched this time.

"I beg your pardon, my lady, but I did what I could with…"

"Did what you could? Because of you he may have an infection, he may have lost too much blood, he may have died!" her last word hung in the air, the pressure of it nearly pushing Myra down into the ground.

"I tried, but those," the trembling man eyes darted to the wolves in the room "anytime he yelled" Grey Wind snapped his teeth "Ahh!" the old Maester almost jumped out of his withered skin "I was lucky to be able to cauterize the wound in his side, where he was bleeding the most. The others I wanted to stitch to prevent unneeded infection, but…I was not sure if he would stay unconscious after… I-I do mean if he screamed…" the older man eyes slid back to Silver and Grey Wind, who continued to allow Myra to lean against his large form. "They…"

"You are right…" Myra abruptly cut-off the man. A realization had been brewing in her gut, slowly she had pieced together all of what she had saw "you did all you could…" she was seeing spots, Myra looked at Robb then at Silver who, once he had been re-bandaged, had returned to his resting side "Stay with him…" Myra spoke for her violet-eyed wolf to hear, "I have to…go" a wrench of guilt pulled at Myra as she took in Robb's weakened state again "for the others who are hurt because of me." Silver seemed to understand, Myra bent to kiss Robb's temple "I will be back soon…" With that Myra put on Robb's cloak, Catelyn's scarf and asked the Maester to lead her to those who had fallen, leaving the room with Grey Wind following her.

* * *

As they walked down the grey halls, a stench wafted into Myra's nose, one that reminded her of the house she had once lived in consumed by red flames, boiling her mother's flesh... She caught a glimpse of a room filled with men bleeding on mats, she saw flashes of Meera's green, making use of her own skills and knowledge of healing plants and herbs to help the wounded, for a moment Myra heard the sound of small bells running around, for a moment she realized the boy lived, for a moment she let herself hope.

The next room was smaller, filled with bundles of white sheets lying on the floor. They reminded Myra of the fallen snow that covered logs by her old home amongst the trees, she almost wondered why her breath did not fog the air, she felt cold enough for it.

All she needed was the smallest glimpse of strands of red peeking through the white and Myra was cradling the frozen and beautiful head of Catelyn Stark against her chest. This stillness in the older woman's body was not the same as Robb's, there was an eerie peace and horror that came with it. Whoever had cleaned Lady Stark's wounds had done a careful and respectful job. The slit at her throat was no more than a thin slice, and with her body was wrapped in pristine, clean white, she could have been asleep, she could almost have been breathing, but she wasn't. The scratches torn into the skin of her cheeks left violent tears of red that would never fade, for she had thought her son had died before her clear blue eyes.

With her eyes closed, Myra had no idea long she had been holding Catelyn nor how long she had been shaking in silent sobs. "I'm so sorry…" And Myra truly meant it. Once again she had failed to save a mother just before her eyes. Even now she could smell the smoke stifling her, the weight of beams crushing her, she could taste red licking at her tongue, the force holding a powerful body that was not hers to the ground.

"How did you do it?" She asked the unearthly drained mask of Catelyn Stark.

How did you survive after Ned? I cannot think without Robb in the world…

Her violet eyes sprang wide open, she rocked where she sat on the floor staring at Catelyn's unmoving face. "It is two Catelyn," she whispered to the gone woman. "It has been two, almost three since my last blood…" Myra knew how Lady Stark had survived... who she had survived for, who she would kill for and who she had died for.

If Robb was not there Myra could only hope she would be… she shook her head. She could not imagine even beginning to try to hope if Robb were not there. Tears dripped off of Myra's nose landing without sound on Catelyn's torn face. Over the quiet Myra could hear Bran and Rickon, all of Catelyn's children wailing for what they had lost in these past months.

"I will take care of them" she promised to the unhearing woman "I will find a way to be better than I am and I will care for them. I swear it…" Myra leaned to place a final kiss against Catelyn's forehead, Grey Wind affectionately nuzzled that same spot. As she laid Catelyn back onto the floor and stood, Myra gasped as though she were coming up for air, but none came into her lungs. Instead she felt more suffocated when she saw Greatjon Umber kneeling at the head of his son, Smalljon.

* * *

**This is another very long split chapter. I really wanted this to be one as it is meant to be, but didn't want reading fatigue to set in at the wrong point, so the second half will be up in a few hours.**


	4. Chapter 4: Blude Ræd Wedyng

**The rest as promised.**

* * *

**Chapter Four – Blude Ræd Wedyng**

_As she laid Catelyn back onto the floor and stood, Myra gasped as though she were coming up for air, but none came into her lungs. Instead she felt more suffocated when she saw Greatjon Umber kneeling at the head of his son, Smalljon._

It was surreal, to see such a large man crushed and so drained. He had seen war and death, he was strong, tough like Robb, perhaps that was why it was so troubling… for what could shake such a hard person so thoroughly?

This jabbed at Myra's insides horribly. It had been over day since the wedding and it looked as though Greatjon had not moved from his son's side. She went and knelt next to the stoic man, not entirely sure of what to say or what to do, it just seemed like the right action for the moment. He did not react to her, she did not know if he could even see out of his dark eyes.

She rested her hand over Greatjon's large fist, held at his side. He flinched turning to face her, his face grey and gristly, his life all there. "My lady?"

"Greatjon… I am, I cannot say how…" Myra truly could not find the words to express her sadness. She was so sorry, so filled with guilt, she felt her voice was on the edge of cracking. He must have sensed the sincerity of her pain for him, because as he began to respond his tongue caught and he fell forward against his son's chest howling and shaking with tears of his own pain.

"I was too drunk… all my fault… my boy…" was all the silver-haired girl could make out from his jumbled sounds. She did not know what else to do, other than supportively rub older man's back.

"My lady?" a voice called from the door. Greatjon, immediately grasped control of the sounds of his sobbing, though his head remained on his son's chest. Myra looked up to see the Maester nervously eying Grey Wind from the door.

"Yes?" she drew his attention back.

"I… Lady Reed, I mean to say, was inquiring after you, your grace."

"Oh… tell her I wil…" Myra stopped short, some invisible thing heavy fell against her as she looked around at the bundles like logs laying on the ground, "we have the people who did this in custody, do we not?" The Maester nodded slowly, clearly perplexed by her change of subject. Greatjon had stopped shaking and was sniffing to collect himself. "Good, gather some guards to bring the perpetrators to the main entrance of the hall where this happened…" Greatjon straightened up quickly, as Myra continued to give the wide-eyed Maester her instructions "all of them. Are we clear?" the Maester nodded again before he left.

Greatjon looked at her curiously when she inquired about the events, nonetheless but explained what he could bare to remember of what had happened. He said that the Freys would not have attempted such a feat if most of the King's troops had not been so far North. Even so, though the loyal troops outside the Twins had also been attacked by Frey and Bolton men and had needed tending, they had fared better then those inside. The traitors had not expected Robb to keep as many men under his direct command as he had. He said Silver had knocked Roose Bolton and Robb to the ground, that the wolf had not moved after hitting the slippery Lord's pink armor. The memories of a pain in her leg came back to Myra, of blacking out, the cut Myra had given herself with her own dagger burned.

Lady Stark had screeched once only, only once. "…her broke-down silence was worse than anything…" He said that he was surprised by how Grey Wind was still alive, after being held and beaten by such an immense number of men. Lord Frey had not realized that he was losing and that he was surrounded by the Young Wolf's men. The large man went on to say that Summer had fought viciously to get to Catelyn before… Greatjon squeezed his eyes shut, then carried on, telling of how after Summer had ripped out the throat of the man who had done 'it', the wolf was struck down by a blow the head. He had not died, but Greatjon remarked on how it had been a slight blessing to have the wolves blacked out for the final moments. Between the three of them the wolves had killed most of the Frey men present and would have gone on for more blood, if they had been able to.

When the wolves had come to, most of the men were either dead or in irons. Grey Wind and Silver would not leave Robb's side and that Summer had run off.

"How did you find out about this so soon, my lady?" Greatjon asked, no longer able to hold back his curiosity.

"I…" she wondered if she should not tell him, as she looked over his leathery face "I saw it…"

"You saw it?"

Myra nodded, looking once more at all of the bodies in the room. "I saw all the blood that had been spilled because of m… "

"Because of the Freys and Boltons…" Greatjon voice forced her to face him, as he had clearly gleaned that she was blaming herself. "They broke the covenant of the guest right. We ate salt and bread at their table, and they attacked us. King Robb did all he could do right, he asked for Lord Frey's permission to wed another, he offered another well-born man to take his place, he extended more apologies and every courtesy known to all man and all the gods... he married you…"

"He married me." Myra echoed, her eyes flicking back to the white bundles, her soft voice cut right through Greatjon's powerful one.

"He married you, my lady. He is an honourable man, a good King… you are his match." He spoke with such conviction Myra had to keep herself from believing in what he was saying.

Her violet gaze went back to the bodies like logs, she stated softly "And yet here we are…"

"Here we are…" Myra knew why he repeated her… sometimes there were no right answers for what had come to pass.

* * *

The guards had brought the men up from the dungeons. Lord Edmure, Greatjon, Meera, the Maester and the able Northern Lords stood with Grey Wind and Myra before the kneeling men. According to Greatjon the women and young children of the Frey house were neither important nor bright enough to Lord Frey to have any part in the planning of this event. They had been taken to their rooms and held there, as opposed to in the dungeons.

When they had seen Myra's hair and eyes the Frey men, who resembled the decrypted man from Myra's memories, broke out into a series of excited whispers. This, after what they had done, annoyed her beyond belief.

"I will not mince words. Judging by your actions you are all clearly fools and the fewer the phrases I use the less likely I am to confuse you… so we are clear, I" she pointed to herself, as Grey Wind stalked behind and snapped at the tense men "am your Queen. My husband is your King, you are traitors and would-be Kingslayers." At the very end of the line of chained men a small scoff was made by Roose Bolton, who never made a sound that he did not mean for others to hear. Grey Wind snarled at him, Bolton did not recoil, though others around him did. The day they met Myra had promised herself he would not best her emotions, she reminded herself of this now.

"Not a one among you will have any honour amid his fellows. You broke your oaths and a code, you have lost any respect you could have carried. There may be no point in asking this but if you have some small shred of honour left see if you can use it to name any who should be counted amongst the conspirators and who are not present here… speak now if any come to mind" there was a brief passing of questioning gazes and turning heads, but overall silence... at least they had not tried to defend themselves as Theon had…

Most of the glances were stolen to the form that Myra's violet eyes had finally landed upon. The disgusting, time beaten man from her visions, she knew him to be Lord Walder Frey. Although he was no longer laughing, she for some reason felt that he was hiding a satisfied smile somewhere within himself. Myra carried on, "I know that your upbringing may not have afforded you much respect to begin with and that you may have resigned yourself to such a miserable existence.

"The only hope you might have let yourself have was that you may be the son who would inherent the Twins and the title of Lord Frey after the slime that is your father had died, but know this now… that will never happen, the Twins will never belong to the Freys again," something in the eyes of the men before her flickered out, bar the one on the end, she continued "… just as there will never be a Bolton at Dreadfort ever again" Roose Bolton's face dropped for a moment before he reconfigured it again. "But as this may not be enough, in case you do not understand the weight of what it is you have done, what needless waste you have caused… there is a task I will appoint to you...

"I do not know what you have been told about me. Perhaps you have been told I am merciful, and kind, soft-hearted…" Myra spoke knowing full well of what Bolton may have told them her dealings with Jaime Lannister "you will never know if that is true now. You willfully killed people who trusted you, killed them... those that you had broken bread with… had they all survived, had this happened before I had any right to a say in your fate, you may have known another side of your Queen... but they did not survive and I am your Queen now… you have taken something that cannot be replaced and this is what will happen…"

Myra gestured to the rags and bucket of cold water she had told the Maester to bring "through those doors behind you is the hall where you committed your crime. You will clean every single crease and crack in that hall. All of the blood, the bone, the hair, the waste and teeth, you will scrub every inch of that chamber clean. If your hands bleed, if your vomit, if you soil yourself I care not, you will clean it all. You will eat, drink and sleep when I say you can, for how long I say you can…"

Myra did not recognize her own voice as she spoke, she was not sure how she felt with such venom coming out of her mouth, "you will be guarded, as you are fools so I feel I must say: if you even think of running, of fighting, of bribing or dying..." she made sure to look at each of their faces "by comparison of what will happen to you, you will wish you were dead. If you ask for mops you will not be given them, so do not ask," she want them to face it all. "Your wrists and feet will remain shackled, and all of the sharp objects have been removed from the hall" she looked at Lord Edmure and Greatjon aghast faces for confirmation, they both nodded before she carried on "you will begin tonight… I will leave your true punishment for when my husband gets to you, he is better suited to this than I and has more experience …" the Frey men turned impossibly more pale, their faces horrified.

The shaking, dumbfounded men slowly but surely began moving, with the added pressure of Grey Wind at their back it was not very long before they had started working their way into the hall. The lords and men who had been present for the event backed away from the doors when they opened, Myra too had no desire to look upon the grizzly sight ever again. She had not told the Lords exactly what she had planned on doing, partially because she had not been sure how she would find the guile to actually go through with it in reality. For the time being she had this level of confidence and she had decided to make use of it... it helped now as she was curious about one further thing and had to know if she should hold yet another person accountable.

Myra approached Roose Bolton, who was the last to stand, he smirked at her "And it had been such a lovely day…"

"What did you mean?" she asked quietly, though others could hear if they chose to listen.

"Beg your pardon, Myra?" he hissed in a breath "sorry is it 'your grace' you prefer now, my Queen?"

She ignored his slight "l mean 'Jaime Lannister sends his regards'… did the Lannister's play a role in this?"

"Ah!" Roose's pale eyes filled with glee. "Your lion would be the only reason you would speak me… well, if you must know. The Kingslayer seemed quite ardent about his little quest when last I saw him at Harrenhal, odd isn't it?... hmm, he was not wholly the man I remember him being… however I suppose that is to be expected with that hog ugly, bitch of a woman pestering…" he did not finish, he had hit a nerve in Myra that had been straining since Robb had left. Without much thought she had suddenly punched his face. She felt the skin of her knuckles on her right hand tear, she did not mind the pain it was satisfying to hit something, especially if the something was Roose Bolton.

"Go get your rag" she practically spat at him. Myra held her hand against Grey Wind's neck. The wolf had already been agitated to begin with, and was shaking now. He calmed a little under her touch.

Myra turned to give Meera and the lords of the North her attention. Most of the prisoners had been escorted into the hall with rested, loyal men who had not been in the hall when 'it' had happened. "I hope no one objects to what has just been dealt…" they all still seemed in shock. So Myra rushed through "Please continue calling me Myra. I am so incredibly sorry for all of this." She wondered for a moment if they believed that she truly meant it "… If you wish to speak to me about anything please do… I take my leave to care for my husband, please I beg you rest now." She started walking away when Greatjon called after her to voice his concern over her ruling.

Myra had just turned to face the Lords again, she had been trying to leave as quickly as possible not only to return to Robb but also to keep from going back on her judgment, but as she turned the sound of a wet thud and then screaming from the still open doors of the hall made almost all of Myra's determined resolve vanish. She opened her mouth to take back her decision, when the Greatjon gave her a look that stopped her in her tracks.

He could see into the chamber, and when he stared back at Myra, it was with fierce eyes "The Frey slipped on blood where my son fell. Let them be." Myra nodded and continued on her way.

When she entered the dim, lamp lit chamber with Grey Wind, Myra removed all of her clothes taking a long clean tunic that had been brought in for her Robb. Grey Wind lay himself on the floor between the door and the bed, Silver remained warming Robb's right side. Myra appreciatively stroked Silver's head, she felt a patch of lumpy skin where she had hit her head. Either Grey Wind or someone had cleaned it, either way Myra was grateful, for Silver's sake and for Silver herself. Silver tried licking the split skin on her girl's now throbbing right hand.

Myra lay against Robb, curling herself around him careful to avoid any spot that could be tender, she had used the Dewney berries to take the feeling away from areas with his wounds but she was not sure how long exactly it would be before they wore off. It probably was not the best thing to be crowding him, but Myra needed to be near him, anxiety had followed her out of the room and had plagued her. She inhaled his scent, still Robb but there was something a little off, right then she decided not to leave him again not until she was sure he was safe, maybe not even then... Even now she felt small by him, safe with him. She kissed his left shoulder, then lifted his heavy left hand placing his clammy palm on her stomach. "My love," Myra murmured to her grey-eyed wolf "you're going to be a father…" a genuine smile from lips imprinted into his skin.

"M….. dr... gn" She heard so quiet she could have missed it if the wind blew by, swore she felt his fingers twitch. Myra nearly screamed with happiness.

"Yes Robb" she smiled widely, her weary eyes leaking once more, her lips a leaving another soft kiss on his flesh, "exactly…" she sighed burrowing into the sanctuary of his skin.

* * *

**Hopefully this will be enough until Wednesday. First episode was so good!**


	5. Chapter 5: The Dark

**On and on and... editity bugs are trying to make my papers work. So yeah. Probably won't miss them their pretty useless anyway. Short tiding over sort of…**

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**Chapter Five - The Dark**

In those few moments that Robb had reacted, the hollow person Myra had let herself become without him filled with the energy of life that now drained away and had been missing for the past weeks. Everything she had done since had been as a reaction. She had been purposely mindless, removed even from herself.

"Now I have to face it all." Myra dug her nose into his skin, before blinking the room into focus. She had to force herself now. She had to pay attention and make use of herself. No more walking through endless fog. They were still at war, she had people to care for, she had responsibilities while Robb was healing... brave and cautious, this far South she had to remind herself to be a mirror of Catelyn. Her knuckles stung, she wondered if had been queenly to punch him…

Sighing, Myra gave herself leave to cling to him for a moment of make believe. That skin she had claimed on his neck was just there before her eyes again but it was not the same. His body was colder than her own, she knew his wintery heat all too well to know it was not normal. Unsure of her mind Myra pressed her left hand, the one which should have been burned three nights ago, into his exposed skin hoping against hope that she could make him absorb any fire stained on her. His body was colder…

No more pretend.

She sat up, relived at least, to see more colour on his cheeks. Silver had woken as well. As her wolf's silent violet gaze followed her, Myra felt as though she were being stripped bare. Silver could see everything. She was the second creature to ever have truly known Myra. And from that day, since Myra had heard her whimpering in the snow Silver had tied Myra to her, making her remember herself and where she came from. Now Myra could feel the weight of her choices, her knuckles pinched with a bitter sting, she felt cruel and it made her mouth taste sour.

…still at war. She tried to remind herself. Myra guiltily traced her fingers over Robb's lips her right leg was already dangling off of the bed. Her toes brushed the cold ground, and something unexpected ticked under the weight of her foot, causing her to jump and look over the edge of the bed.

She had crushed two legs of a spider. 'The hill tribes say it is bad luck to see a spider in the morning.' Myra heard her mother's voice in her head. 'Superstitions only have power if you believe…' Myra dug out another of her mother's phrases out of her memories. She looked back to Robb, remembering leech, those red eyes, something that haunted, hunted him… Myra took in a deep breathe to force herself to think rationally 'I don't believe!'

She had no time for superstitions, she had to let the prisoners eat, care for the wounded, decide how to bring Bran and Rickon to their mother, tell Greatjon to keep news of Robb's weakened state from spreading but as she looked at Robb her heart raced. "I don't believe," Myra spoke to convince the burn of her wolf's unmoving purple gaze.

She had been out of his room for less than half a day when Robb's fever struck. The wound over his heart was not exactly the same as the clean line drawn across hers. His flesh was ripped and ridged, Bolton's blade had dug more deeply than Myra's own and the shock of Silver knocking down the parasitic Leech Lord had caused his steel to tear over Robb's skin.

"It was working…" Myra bit out, staring at her husband's skin, puffed and pink with infection that was slowly spreading. He had started shaking and sweating.

From that minute Myra decided to keep Bran and Rickon away. She told Greatjon to watch over going ons and report to her about what was found to be important. Myra knew that the person she did not want to be was returning. She was becoming a shell again, all she could think of was Robb. Only instead of being utterly empty, she was filled with needing to save him and was consumed with trying to draw the fever out of him. She would be of no use to anyone else. None. And as she stood vigil over her husband, she could not bring herself to care. Myra had pulled Meera away from the soldiers she had been tending to. The methodical way Myra functioned to try to save Robb clearly alarmed Meera. "It won't help him if I can't think straight, they'll get in the way" the silver-haired girl had responded to when Meera had questioned what Myra about how she was feeling.

The moment Meera had asked her, Myra could feel a small sliver of fear poke at her heart, she was quick to block it out.

Before long Meera was thinking of other combinations of herbs that Myra had not tried. Grey Wind had nuzzled into Myra's legs, he was fearful enough for the both of them. The massive grey wolf had grown restless, nervously stalking the grounds, bringing scraps of bone to Silver who, followed her girl's example and barely left Robb's side. It had been almost a week and Myra had not spoken a word to anyone that she did not have to, she could barely register what others said over the constant scratching of hail in her in head. She felt that he was leaving her again, only now she did not want distractions, now she could see his blood turn black, his skin become cloudy with sickness, hear his hallucinations. She could always see him clearly, always hear his voice over a burning world. That had not changed either, from the night they had met. She could smell him, sense him, feel calm.

Meera's was expression filled with worry. Myra barely took in the green girl's next question as she pressed more crushed onion and Pentoshi aloe perfoliata against Robb's infection. "No I'm not fine, half of me is sick Meera." She had not intended to be mean, but as Robb hissed with the slave taking hold of his infection, Myra could only think to feel his pain. His white teeth clenched and his balmy body jerked. He called for her like a child. Asking her to make the pain disappear.

She desperately wanted to spirit it all away.

If I hadn't seen that spider… Myra bit the inside of her cheek pouring some juice Dewney berries between his chapped parted lips. The ominous stain the juice left on his mouth, made Myra's breath catch if she stopped to stare. So she did not, she kept pushing, there was always something new to think of and do to save him.

But despite this push, in her gut she could feel all of his aches. She prayed, she stroked his dark hair and he calmed, she hummed and he slept but he did not get well.

Not truly until this night late in the week, when Myra had been lying beside him, admiring the colour that was finally returning to his cheeks, the smell of him that was not as tainted by rot, mindless her eyes drooped as she leaned in close to his increasingly scruffy chin. What began as a sigh escaped her as she inhaled him, a sigh which turned to a small burp from low in her belly.

Myra snapped her mouth closed. Flashes of her mother's etiquette lessons passed behind her eyelids.

Was that you little dragon? Myra heard Robb's voice in her head. She felt her silver-hair shake as she denied the wolf in her head.

Any way I can get you… the gruff voice in her head puffed air against her face…

Myra's eyes could not break open fast enough. A wave of air flooded her lungs.

She could feel the colour spring back into her life when she caught sight of his warm clearing grey eyes. Exhausted but wide-open.

Her lips were pushed against his before her tongue had even unstuck from the roof of her mouth "You have me." The scruff on his face scratched a little. She felt familiar, like herself once again.

His lips curled into a smile of contentment and his body relaxed he as he sank tiredly to drift back to sleep. Suddenly he shook his head, the grey in gaze no longer weary. He tried to sit up, but the pain of his wounds and the effect of the Dewney berries made his body heavy. A hard, cold blaze had filled his steel gaze. Myra knew why… he had remembered. It was plain to see in his expression, all that had happened had hit him without warning and he wanted her to tell him that it was not real.

Myra bit her lip, guilt consumed her, he saw it.

"Tell me."

"You need rest…"

"Tell me."

"It won't help your state if you get over-excited…"

"I am not a child Myra!" he spoke loudly, causing Myra and the wolves, who had moved closer without Myra's noticing, to startle. The effort had drained him, Robb blanched slightly and his body dropped further in the mattress, he wheezed to catch his breath. Myra's frustration at his bullheadedness melted away, her heart pounded in her throat.

"Robb, please" she pleaded, stroking his hair, "just rest for now."

"For now… " he puffed, nostrils flaring as he tried to control his breathing.

"Thank you" she lay a soft kiss of relief against his lips.

She held herself there, relishing the feeling of his strengthening exhale on her skin "You have our daughter in you." His tongue tickled her lips through his soft speaking mouth. "I heard…"

"Our son." She responded, pulling back to see his eyes closed once more.

"Daughter…" he sounded as though he was speaking in his delirious sleep again.

But now Myra was the one floating on a cloud of delirium, she was sure that he would come back to her. She wanted to sing and cry and laugh.

"Mother" his mumble broke through her moment of forgetting herself "… gone…" the word left him and lingered in Myra's head. She wondered if she should answer. Perhaps he would simply go to sleep if she did not.

Yet she felt compelled to reply with a somber "Yes…" unsure if he would even hear her.

Myra thought he must have fallen asleep when he broke the silence, "Went South…both fine..." with his voice half-conscious. "Lost 'em … without tryin…" as his jaw went slack, he trailed off.

Her heart fell. She knew he meant that he had lost them, his people, his sisters and parents. "Not without trying, Robb." Myra spoke, realizing now that he would wake to be broken in more ways than either of them could know.

* * *

**Sludge. School. Haven't done laundry, awake for 48 hours, sugar…**

**It's silly but knowing others are going through the same just feels better.**

**Found time for the show: Tyrion's a bad ass! Bring on the political word and game play! Anyone else minding the needless sex scenes?**


	6. Chapter 6: Grind and Grit

**Hi… what is was that? Editing? Yeah… after I eat this porridge… and a thousand more bowls after it… for sure. I'll right get on it…**

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**Chapter Six – Grind and Grit**

Flat teeth pushed into the skin of her shoulder. He did not attempt to touch her tender chest again, after the last time he knew better. Instead his rough hand cupped the small bloated pouch of lower belly.

After Robb had woken up that first night from his fever, Myra had called for Bran and Rickon to be brought from Riverrun along with Osha, they arrived four days later, the day after Rickon's ninth name-day. This had been worse than Ned. Both had been horrible but something was different. Bran had become pale and frail, Myra checked to see that the half circles on his palms had mostly healed. Summer had found his way back to his side and both he and his boy sat in a ghostly silence. Shaggydog and Rickon had become terrified of everything, barking and shouting at anything that startled them.

"Bran, Rickon?" Myra had tried speaking to them, but her words no longer worked on them. They had lost both of their parents now. Myra had felt a pang of shaking sadness for the girls who had lost their parents too. They may have seen Ned go, just as Bran had seen Catelyn. But the girls had been alone, the boys still knew that they had Robb, and they had her. Robb was finally able to sit up by the time the boys arrived, but he was still a pale greyish colour. Though the Maester and Meera were amazed by his recovery and the phenomenal near perfect repair of his movement and strength capabilities, Myra had worried. She could hardly get him to speak. Even as she told him of her punishments, her visions, her punching of the former Lord Bolton, Robb's pale eyes simply wandered to the dark corners of the room often in mid-sentence, and his fingers would occasionally graze her slightly inflamed knuckles.

She had decided that she alone was not enough this time and brought the boys to Robb's room. All three of the boys had sat in silence, the two youngers shoved and stuffed in against Robb, with Myra propped up against the foot of the bed. Silver had reluctantly moved off the bed for them, finding her place against Grey Wind on the ground. Myra had gone from having her violet gaze dart to and from the three of them, to her fingers wearily playing with Rickon's toes and finally falling asleep. She had woken up hours later to the sound of sniffling and laughing and story-telling. Grey Wind was sitting on the floor, resting his head in the curve of her hip, warming her and watching the boys from the over edge of the bed. He was clearly more at ease, some of Robb had returned.

Eventually they had run out of things to say "Her hair is still long…" Myra had spoken up pensively, fiddling with Rickon's toes again "she said your father liked it that way…" when she lifted her eyes the she found three somber, severe expressions facing her. It was clear that all the stories of their mother's life had come to a head. Rickon spoke first wanting to see her, but Myra remained focused on Bran who she knew had seen more than too much.

"You're strong, just lean on me a little…" Myra spoke softly to Robb as he tried to stand and walk but found that it was far too taxing to do alone. He would let Myra be his crutch, refusing when Osha offered to find someone to help as she carried Bran. Myra hung back when Robb had sweated and limped to his brothers' sides by their resting mother. Bran cried in silence, Rickon wailed, the wolves howled in the distance. He stood over them pale grey and quiet, speaking words for the boys to hear, out of Myra's earshot.

As they walked back he had squeezed Myra in way that made her send Osha ahead with the boys to their rooms. Once Robb was certain they had left, he keeled over. Awkwardly bending his knees while still bracing himself, with his good arm, against Myra causing her to kneel also as he heaved and emptied his bowels. "I told them to be Northmen, one must have sand. Winter is coming…" he rasped, shaking as he slobbered and wept "We must be brave and ready… all she taught me, she had more, her council… all of this…."

Myra had let him continue in rambling string of words, gags and sobs. But she stopped him when he blamed himself "The Freys did this…"

"The Freys" he had responded in what sounded like a chuckle, shaking his head at the ground. When they finally stood the grey that had been so terribly wrong with Robb's skin, seemed flushed out, left in a pile on the floor. As they had walked and hobbled back to their room he appeared to arrive to a conclusive decision "You were right in all you did, little dragon. It is time to stop only commanding armies and start ruling."

* * *

"You touched my wife…"

"Beg your pardon?"

"Do you know what your face did to my wife's hand?"

"Some advice your grace, lack of tact is not kingly. Besides being possessive does not become you..."

"Perhaps not, but she returned to me injured that does not sit well with me… and forgive me if I fail to see the value of a dead man's advice Roose" the pale man flinched, kneeling with his hands bound before him, Robb smiled dangerously at traitor, grey eyes as hard as steel "seems life without lordship does not suit you." The rest of the prisoners had filed in by this point, Myra's punishment had the made them hollow crumbling things. "If you have names or words that should be known say them now" some whimpered and cried for their families, others tried for their lives, offering King Stannis as the orchestrator of their crimes.

For all the words the men said, the only ones that had remained in Robb's head at the end of the night were "I Robb of the House Stark, King in the North, first of my name sentence you to die for your crime of treason" then the heave and the clang of Ice and the thump of a head followed by a headless body again and again until the former Lord Frey had seen all of shaking sons severed from their bodies. Only the final Frey and Bolton were left, Robb considered condemning them to a life of taking the black, but there was no guarantee that they would break their oaths, as slippery as they were, and the idea of them finding honour at the Wall churned his stomach. He reminded the men that their names and titles would end with them and two clangs and thumps later all of the traitors were dead.

"Drink." Greatjon had ordered. Robb had not wanted to, he would rather have crawled into Myra's warmth, but Lord Umber insisted it would help with forgetting. The strength it took to wield Ice would have drained him even if had been more than just two weeks after his fever had passed, Robb was certain that a lifetime of rest would not have been enough it was... it was something else.

Then the bloody night faded into him falling on top of his silver-haired wife "…passes sentence, drops the blade" he had tried explaining himself. She wrapped her body around his when he asked, pressed warm mouth against his neck when he rolled on his back, and let him bunch her hair up to his nose. "Better than any medicines."

* * *

Myra had gone from waiting to sleeping to surprise that night, she held him tightly when he asked, he spoke as though he were falling apart and it broke her heart. Not knowing what else to do she did as he asked, telling stories of her life against his neck. She told him of the song with no words that served as a lullaby, a tune for working, a tool to ward off fear; she spoke of seeing futures on palms and praying in her snow covered godswood. With his hold around her waist familiar and firm she mused "you make me feel safe…" the arm around her waist tightened and his other hand went to her healing knuckles.

"…protect you?" he asked muffled by her hair.

"Better than anyone Robb." She had meant it, her teeth had bit a little against the vein at his neck. She had never felt so secure, he was not hiding her like her mother, or making choices for her, he was simply there for her. Backing her, letting her do the same for him, they were equals and she drew strength from it. She felt safe for that strength and love he gave her. She could be secure in herself.

The funerals followed, with Catelyn and Ned's remains being saved for the crypts at Winterfell. Some the women and children of the Frey house were sent to be wards of minor houses surrounding Riverrun, others would be spread out further North. Between Robb's impatience and Myra's near-magic healing the group at the Twins were ready to embark back North. He had barely limped and his arm strengthened as he tirelessly tried to regain his former ability. Myra was sure that through sheer force of will he had made himself well. "Stubborn wolf…" she had muttered to him when he refused to stop training, he simply smiled kissing her frowning lips and fixing a wreath atop her head.

Temporary rule of the Twins was given to the Reeds, Meera and Jojen would remain South with their father as Robb prepared to go North. Upon hearing these plans Osha had vanished without a word. Her leaving in such a manner had hurt but Myra did not blame the Wildling girl, the fear she had held for what lay north of the Wall was almost contagious. However, it was not enough to stop Myra from insisting that she go North with Robb's fighting force. She would not leave the boys again either so she argued for them too. With a "stubborn dragon" out of Robb's mouth and her swatting at the bronze crown on his head they were off.

Many of the Ironborn had already been put down by the Northern troops, who had freed up much of the way to Winterfell. According to the men the Iron ships had pillaged along the coast, the horrors that they saw as they travelled, came at the hands of Bolton's bastard son at the behest of 'King' Stannis.

Robb called the people who had been overrun 'small-folk' and the phrase stuck in Myra's mind.

I am a 'small-folk', she thought to herself, as her violet scorch traced the destruction along their path. She recalled the small house in the frost that had been her whole world, it had not been small. Not to her. She saw her mother's brown hair and worn hands, the smell of the fresh cool air, the smell of food, the best rice pudding she could ever imagine tasting...

Perhaps it was because she missed it, maybe she wanted help but Myra found her way into helping with the baking of oatcakes and bread in the homes of the 'small-folk'. The people of the houses Myra visited were shocked enough by her requested to help them bake bread, then frightened by Grey Wind's presence at their door. The massive wolf was once again following Myra everywhere she went. But once they were assured of their safety the women she met spoke of the sons and daughters that they bore and had lost to one war or illness or another. For each 'something' that the mothers gave Myra to fear in child birth there was always an extra experience or story that made having seven or eight or, for some, nine babes worthwhile.

In one such household, on one night that had Rickon troubled for some unknown reason, had the boy insisting on keeping near Myra. He made more of a mess at first playing with the dough then becoming preoccupied with a small bud of light flying around his head "That little prince is a lightening bug" the matriarch of the house they were in spoke "some say that one that clings to you is a spirit unwilling to leave…"

Rickon's doughy fingers had already been trying to capture the bug, but after the woman's words he chased the light when it flew out of an open window into the night. "Rickon!" Myra ran after him, startling Grey Wind as she followed the quick boy.

"It's mother!" Rickon had yelled back, "I can't leave her!" Shaggydog had joined instep next his boy. Past the edge of the camp mid-way between the last line of tents and the bounds of a nearby wood, Rickon finally had his victory. "Caught her!" he turned smiling triumphantly at Myra, who slowed down to catch her breath.

"Rickon" she huffed "…don't jus…" she stopped as her eyes caught something beyond the boy's shoulders in between the dark trees of the forest. She was about to call Rickon back to her in a panic, when another spoke.

"I know who you are!" she followed Rickon's gaze to see Bran, in the arms of a Stark bannerman, and Robb behind her some feet away staring at the same spot in the woods from the edge of the camp. Robb continued speaking, walking and limping a little towards the forest, "Do you remember?"

Rickon finally turned to see what they saw "Nymeria!" he exclaimed.

Nymeria… Myra had quickly understood.

"If you can see this Ayra," Robb called out again, though the wolf had stayed where she was, with her glowing yellow eyes fixed on Robb "we have not forgotten you or Sansa." The wolf was unmoved. "You will be found, we want you back and…" he stopped in line with Myra as the sudden sound of human howling broke out.

"Awooo!" Myra gaze snapped to Rickon, words ready to tell him to calm down, when she realized that he was silently looking past her again with his mouth hanging open. The mournful sound was coming from Bran.

"Bran…" she began, but was cut-off by the wild chorus of Rickon and finally Robb.

"Awooo!" the three bothers cried out that night to and for their lost sisters. "Awooo!"

Now, four weeks after Robb's fever had broken and his miraculous recovery, they were so close to Winterfell that each day swore they could nearly taste the familiar air. Now, as his flat teeth pushed into the skin of her shoulder. And he did not attempt to touch her tender chest again, now after the last time he knew better. Now as his rough hand cupped the small bloated pouch of lower belly instead she smiled, groaning, reaching back to tug at his hair.

"You must have been a wolf in a past life…"

"Hmmm" he hummed nuzzling his nose over the line of her neck.

"You bite so much."

He growled slightly, playfully nipping at her skin. "You taste so damn good…" he lapped against her hot flesh, his hand dipped lower to the wetness building between her legs "and I think you like it…" she felt his smile pull at her skin.

"I- ah!" her mouth found his, and her toes began curling far from the last time for the night…

* * *

**So almost twenty chapters covering about two books in the South later… getting a move on.**

**Was away from HBO sources… recorded the show. Constantly seem to be missing it and watching waayy too late in the week.**

**My sister said Robb flirts in this one… hoping for a good Jeyne.**


	7. Chapter 7: In the North

**Odd Thursday! Sorry about editing and lateness, found this part to be like chewing on something rubbery for a long time.**

* * *

**Chapter Seven – In the North**

It was not what they expected. Nearly four months since her last moon's blood they had returned to the North. Myra had told Robb of all that happened in his absence, of her visions of red eyes and flames, of the leech, of how his mother had gone mad when she thought he had died and Lord Frey had ordered his mother's death when he thought Robb was dead. As his nose had trailed mournfully over the mark on her chest, she did not know how to tell bring up her hand in the flames. It seemed so much had happened since they had arrived this far North. News had reached them of King Joffery being poisoned at his wedding, Tyrion Lannister had been accused of the scheme. Robb had fretted over the strength of the Queen regent's word alone, as he had put his trust in the promise of Tyrion, however Robb felt it was more important to reclaim Winterfell. Lord Edmure, for all of the horrors of his wedding had been pleased with his bride and had returned to his seat at Riverrun with his recently pregnant wife to keep the Riverlands well protected, Tywin Lannister was still in the hands of Lady Mormont and the five high-born Lannisters travelled North with them. Myra had felt sad for the children some were scared others seemed prideful.

There were five children. Myra had met them when they had first arrived at Riverrun but her mind had been in such a state and she had been such a shell that she could not remember. They were of varying ages but they all looked blonde and similar. Their names were Martyn, Tryek, "Red" Walder, Janei and Myrcella. Princess Myrcella… Robb had said Cersei's face had nearly turned blue and that he had to remind her of her brother's life in the balance before she agreed.

Myrcella was nothing like her mother according to Robb's account. When Myra looked at the girl she could help but be reminded of Jaime, who had now lost both his true born son and daughter. The girl's eyes looked the exactly the same green of Jaime's when he was…well, if Myra was honest with herself, when he was not being a smug arse. The girl was gentle and sweet, quick to smile, she asked after Sansa and Ayra and was fond of Bran and Rickon. Though she missed her family much as the rest of the children, Myra did her best to cheer them up. They played games and told stories and soon enough it became clear that all of the Lannister children were quick to smile once they let go of the title and simply were children.

Robb kept his distance as did the wolves. They were growing so large that they spent a few hours of the day outdoors but they were always close by. The exceptions were that Grey Wind and Silver could almost be found in Myra's shadows.

"It is worse here Myra, much worse" Robb's heavy grey eyes roamed over the land surrounding Winterfell. "They hate me here," he squinted against the frosty wind "I can feel it. I abandoned them… I should have listened to my mother about the Greyjoys" he shook his head at the bleak landscape. Food had grown scarce as they approached the fortress, apparently Bolton's bastard had been pooling of the supplies at the Stark fortress.

Myra wanted to comfort him but her mouth formed to speak the truth instead as she squeezed his arm and looked out at the dying plains. "They do…but only because they do not know you or how great a King you are yet." She added. "It will take time Robb… I just wish I could help…"

"Myra." His head snapped to face her. "You cannot… you help me more than you know, in truth more than even I know." He squeezed her hand affectionately in return, he huffed as he looked worriedly back over the plains.

* * *

Myra woke with a small start, she could feel something fluttering and floating around in her stomach. She raised herself on her elbows to see Robb's shaggy dark head lay on her bare stomach. She smiled giddy with pure love at the memory of Robb childishly pushing Grey Wind's resting head off her belly and taking his wolf's place every night since then.

He would speak, sometimes for Myra to hear, sometimes not. Myra had asked one night what he had said, he responded by kissing the soft skin on her stomach gently tugging some at of the growing flesh as he did, then turning his head to face her with a playful glint in his warm grey eyes "Your mother is such a nosy little dragon." Myra had gasped at him, making a humourously insulted face and chuckling when he gently nipped at the skin on her belly and went back to whispering to their unborn child.

Myra would play with his hair, eventually drifting off to sleep, often waking to find him asleep drooling on her. His hot breath feathering up her belly or down… When she would embarrassedly nudge him awake he was happy to satisfy the rush of heat she felt. He would also rub aloe perfoliata on the dry skin that was appearing on her stomach, he would find the humour in her frustration over a largely flat stomach that did not match her feelings of being huge. Myra had gotten over her shyness of using a chamber pot with Robb in the room, after getting up three times in a night she had stopped caring if he saw her or heard her. She had also stopped caring if he heard her belch she could not seem to hold it in, when he laughed she reminded him that their baby's burp had woken him. Recently the gas and the constant need to relieve herself had eased, and for the first time tonight she felt something new.

"Robb" she whispered, spotting Silver and Grey Wind's eyes following her movement from their place on the floor of the tent.

"Mmm" he felt his grumble vibrate through her body, as he burrowed his face into her stomach.

"Robb" she tried again, Myra pulled a little on his dark hair "I felt him move."

That caught Robb's attention, he knelt next to her on the mattress with his hands on her stomach "You felt her?" his expression was filled with excited wonder as he looked down at his hands over her slightly pudgy stomach.

Myra nodded "Just lightly, it felt as though he were scurrying across my insides…"

"That's my brilliant little girl! Scurrying like a little squirrel…" he leaned forward and kissed Myra's belly, trailing his mouth up Myra's body to kiss her happily and heatedly on the mouth.

* * *

Winterfell had been horrible, many of the Iron born and Bolton men had fled the wrecked fortress. Before entering the place Myra had made sure to talk to Rickon and Bran about what they may find.

"It could be as empty as that patch of snow" Bran had remarked, clearly remembering Myra's burned down home.

"It could…it could go either way" Myra amended.

"Or in between?" Rickon chimed in.

"Or in between, little pup" Myra had repeated with an affectionate tussle of his brown hair.

Once Robb and his men had deemed it safe, and made sure that there were no infestations or traps, they were allowed entry. The grey walls of the fortress had been charred black in some places, the banners of the flayed Bolton men hung, where Stark banners should have been.

It felt as though walking through an abandoned town, the mist clung to the air and there were eerie echoes and shadows everywhere. The tapestries were tattered, rubbish lined the halls and rooms, blood stains dried on walls and sheets … a grim stink stuck to everything.

Apparently the first party in had found the remains of the men who had not survived and had buried what was left of them, Maester Luwin and a great number of women among them. Those who had been forced into service of the ruling Bolton bastards had wept and sniveled in fear when Robb had questioned them.

Myra wanted to hate them for what they had done to Winterfell and the people who had healed her, but as she saw them weep she realized that such men were victims as well. They felt disgust at what had to see and do under the rule of this Bolton person, who had runaway shortly before their arrival.

Bran and Rickon had looked utterly defeated, when she moved away from Robb and closer to them in the courtyard. Bran had gone into Hodor's hands the giant man had been painted as a jester, if he had suffered the large man either did not show it or know it. The wolves worked their way around the castle sniffing out possible dangers.

As Myra looked at the boy's solemn faces she felt at a loss herself.

"It looks different than what I remember" Mrycella had stepped next to Myra startling the silver-haired girl with her soft voice.

"It does" Myra nodded "but we will rebuild." She felt the baby flutter in her stomach and it occurred to Myra that it was time to reveal something. She placed her arm over her easily hidden belly, remembering the change in Catelyn and Robb when they had discovered she was to have a baby. Myra only hoped it would be the same for the whole family. "I- I mean, Robb and I we are having a baby." She turned her head to smile down at Rickon, then up at Bran. "You are going to be uncles."

"A baby?" Rickon gaped her.

Myra nodded, she was suddenly doubting herself, finding it difficult to swallow. Her eyes darted to Bran, who seemed to be stunned.

"That's wonderful!" Myrcella squealed, pulling on Myra's arm.

"Thank you Myrcella" Myra smiled at the enthusiastic girl.

"We'll rebuild." Bran spoke up, smile lightly "we have to before they get there" his brown eyes went to Myra's midriff "and before Sansa and Ayra get here."

Rickon nodded eagerly as Myra spoke "Perfect."

* * *

Over the next two weeks Robb had laid his parents to rest in the crypts of Winterfell and had received word from his brother, Jon, who had become Lord Commander of the Night's Watch at the Wall. There had been a battle North of the Wall and Jon, like Osha, had fear regarding what was coming from the lands of the constant winter. He added that had Stannis not come to the aid of the Night's Watch there would likely be no Night's Watch and the Wall would have fallen. Robb had made a comment about how both he and his brother had spent their eighteenth name-days fighting, which had caused Myra to become irrationally angry at his not telling her that his name-day had passed so early in the year.

After he had cooed her out of her fit, Myra could let herself see the holes in the stories that were bothering Robb. Jon had said that Stannis had no luck in getting any Northerns on his side, he had tried helping the Night's Watch and freeing the small-folk from the Bolton bastard's deathly grip. Stannis and Jon had believed he was fighting the Greyjoys at first but it soon became very obvious the bastard of Bolton was the one to defeat. Balon Greyjoy had died which made Myra wonder where and how Theon fit into all of the happenings, no one seemed to know his fate. Nonetheless, it became clear that the Boltons had insinuated that Stannis was to take control of the North, so that they could maintain a seat of trust and legitimacy all the while painting Stannis as a horrible villain and master coordinator of the Red Wedding, as the grizzly event had been named when news spread.

Stannis and Robb had agreed to meet just outside of Winterfell's ashy walls in time, the meeting would have to be postponed to a later time as both of the men and their troops had been chasing the Iron born back to the Iron Islands and searching for Roose Bolton's bastard son, Ramsay Snow. He was a monster. Robb had been utterly disturbed by what he had heard and had not wanted to share what he had reported back to him with anyone who did not have to hear it. Myra heard what the survivors whispered about as she helped them clean. He released women into the woods to hunt them in the night, he flayed men, he betrayed Robb without remorse and tortured others for fun. The way they described it made Myra feel dirty.

She had gone to the godswood, which was perhaps the only place that had remained peaceful, the violence of the fighting had made it less warm but it remained a calm quiet place of solitude. It truly been some of the only solitary time for her, she had nothing that she could think of to say to the gods so she simply enjoyed the quiet. Grey Wind was with Robb fighting and Silver had taken to sleeping a lot throughout the day. Myra pulled out a series of native plants she recognized tying them into bushels. Slowly room by room, begin with the children's bedrooms, she opened windows and burned the plants raising the smoking bundles to the corner of each room and letting the clean smell sink in. It seemed important to Myra that the children, including the Lannister children, find a way to be comfortable and at home in the pit Winterfell had become.

Sure enough the sense of the place changed. Things were coming together, once Robb had freed the North and ensured the safety and food supplies of the people they could begin rebuilding. Myra was happily thinking this when she heard a shout from the open window, while burning more herbs.

Myra stomach had yet to become noticeable, the women she had met on the road and those who remained at Winterfell had told the violet eyed girl to stop worrying and spoke of their envy over the lack of her symptoms. At any rate the lack of belly allowed Myra to run to the courtyard, where she saw a grey lump, a skeleton of a man, who was really a boy. Robb was still gone with Grey Wind and Silver was asleep still probably under the stairs.

"Theon…" Myra gasped, truly shocked by his deteriorated state. She told the men holding him up to back away. Theon collapsed, he was barely recognizable some of his teeth were missing, three of his fingers were missing skin and infected, four others were missing bones.

"Reek, Reek rhymes with sneak…" his dirty craggy face held his blue eyes that peered up at Myra from the ground. "Do not weep. Hate women weeping…" he spoke with a vein of anger in his tone.

"I'm not weeping Theon." Myra did not know how to take him, she certainly did not feel much like crying, but she wanted to help so she knelt by him to see how she could do so "What did Ramsay Snow do to you?"

"Don't call him Snow. It's Lord Ramsay or he'll make you pay." He grinned at her through his splintered teeth and cracked lips, his eyes flickered with delirium.

She asked the guards to take him to a free clean room, they listened to her though their anger at Theon was apparent as they were not particularly gentle. Maester Luwin's apprentice, Lowel, had helped her with other injured parties they had found and helped her with Theon now. Theon's flayed, infected fingers had bite marks at their, Myra could not imagine the pain he would have had to go through to consider biting off his own fingers. Harrion Karstark informed her of where Theon had been found, wandering the snowy drift close by rambling on about escaping Stannis and someone named Reek, they had not recognized him and assumed that his name was Reek.

Theon had passed out completely by the time Myra and the Maester began cutting off Theon fingers so that the infection would not spread. As she looked at the Greyjoy, who had said stupid things and was humorously proud and had threatened Bran before, she could not help but feel pity. "Idiotic dolt" she muttered as the Maester began on the second finger, Myra took in a deep breath. "Robb is going to kill me…"

* * *

Robb had not been impressed by Myra's care of Theon when he returned. He had demand time alone with the Greyjoy, the fury storming in Robb's grey eyes gave Myra reason to be anxious over Theon safety. She barely knew herself when she made Robb promise not to kill Theon, though a little smacking would be acceptable.

Robb had left the chamber, making sure that Theon would not try to take his own life, he assigned guards to the Greyjoy's door and did not visit him anymore than that.

"He is a proper arse and all around bastard, but…" Robb had shrugged to her that night upon entering their bedchamber.

"He's been snapped in some way…" Myra had nodded back from the bed, running her hand over her stomach. She had lifted her gaze to see him smiling wolfishly at her, he nodded crawling up her body, sighing against the smell of her skin.

* * *

It had been a week since Theon impromptu arrival. Masons had begun repairing towns, roads and eventually Winterfell. Robb had more time to concentrate on the welfare of the people as the lands became safe and the Lords retook their rightful seats. He had yet to decide what to do with the Lordship over Dreadfort and had some stresses over whom exactly of Bolton's men to punish. But slowly things had become closer to good again. In a week they would meet with Stannis for the first time with the banners Robb kept near incase.

His dark head rested on the higher part of her bare stomach which remained mostly flat while the area just below her belly button was growing bigger and curving out. They talked of the day and Myra had aired her dread over her 'duty' to be present at such a formal reception. Robb had chuckled at her grumbling and promised to make it as painless as possible, then he kissed her belly, whispering to himself and their baby.

"Whoa!" there was a feeling of a pop and spasm low in Myra's stomach. She jerk sitting up so Robb's head fell into her lap, she might have let herself be distracted if she was not so fascinated with running her fingers over her belly.

"What was that!" Robb sat up, looking more worried than amused by how she had move and where he had landed. Myra gasped she felt the twitch on her stomach again, she could be sure if the feeling was only from the inside and she was imagining the kick, kick.

"Here" she excitedly dragged Robb's large, rough palms towards her stomach. "Talk again."

"Myra, wha…" his mouth was left hanging open, as their child kick at him. He between Myra and his hands smiling on the verge of tears, Myra felt her heart melt "I've felt Sansa and the rest when my mother… this is different" he shook his head, biting his lip as though his were containing his laughter. The baby moved again "That's my girl."

Suddenly his arms were wrapped around Myra's body. Their legs were tangled together and Robb sniffed along the nape of her neck kissing and laughing as he went, holding her as tightly as he could "I was speaking to our daughter about names…" he finished with kiss against Myra's smiling lips.

"And what did _he_ help you decide on?"

"She and I are against choosing the names of our parents for her…" that caused Myra's violet eyes to widen out of their blissful stupor. As sweet as she would have found it to name her child after her mother, Myra thought it would be awkward to speak or call her mother's and Robb's parents' names on a daily basis.

"I agree…" she smiled at him when he raised his head.

"Good." He breathed through his open kiss against her mouth. Things were truly becoming good.

* * *

Stannis was to arrive at the meeting point in four days. Myra and Bran had been rebuilding their relationship after they had uncovered the archery target and found bow and arrows to practice with.

She had told him that she loved him and he had come to accept her treatment of Jaime Lannister, though it did not mean that he himself would ever talk to the man. They discussed Osha's leaving and Myra asked about his visions, which were more frequent and vivid than any of the other boys and her own. The red eyes continued to haunt her and she felt it was unfair to have Bran confide in her and not do the same in return.

They were returning from their practice with Summer and Silver nearby. Bran was joking in Hodor's arms about her being cross-eyed as a marksman, when he stopped talking and focused on a spot over her shoulder.

"I told you to leave!" A guard's voice called out in the distance behind her.

"Your grace, I would have the honour of asking for an audience with the King…" Myra heard a different withered voice speak, she had turned to see man with long grey hair, cloaked in brown in a deep bow, he seemed to be carrying something against his chest.

"None of that sir and please call me Myra. The King has gone out patrolling if…" the old man stood up and Myra could see what he held.

"I said LEAVE!" the guard came closer.

"I-it…" Myra tried to find her tongue. "It's fine." She gestured the guard back her eyes had not moved from the boy in the old man's arms. A boy with dark, wavy hair, familiar grey eyes and Robb Stark's countenance "wh-wha…" Myra felt her mouth become heavy as a question she did not want to ask pushed against her teeth.

"I am Aldric, your grace. This is Maldric, he has four name-days and has been my ward since his mother passed over two months ago. He is the King's son."

"WHAT?" Robb's voice suddenly boomed through the courtyard, Myra had not even noticed him and his men enter.

Myra's stunned stare remained on the quiet boy in Aldric's grasp, he looked scared. Though her eyes brimmed with water and her voice broke a little she tried smiling at the boy "Don't be afraid." She spoke softly but she knew that the boy heard her.

"Myra." Robb had moved to stand next to her.

She looked up at him water threatening to spill over. "He's your son Robb..." the longer she looked into his grey pleading eyes the harder Myra found it to breath, she crossed her arms "I can't talk to you right now. I-I'm just going to lay down…"

He nodded slowly, his eyes digging into her skin. "I will see you soon." He pressed a kiss to her forehead, releasing his grip on her. At her door she had thanked Bran for knowing precisely when to be silent and realized that Grey Wind had been a few paces behind them.

And in her room, as she had many months ago Myra had sat on her bed and hugged Silver murmuring into her glowing pelt. "What should I do? I wish mother were here" Silver pushed against her as though trying to offer her strength. "Thank you girl." She felt Grey Wind nuzzle against her knee, she patted his head "You too boy."

* * *

**Phew! That was a run and a half. Was determined to finish. Really don't wanna give up. Note that the wards have been made much younger than their ages in the books, just to be nice 'n' convenient.**


	8. Chapter 8: Weaving

**Sunday post! Moving don't know about internet access this week. On we go! Edit…yeah…**

* * *

**Chapter Eight – Weaving**

Myra had tried sleeping with Silver lying next to her but she could not relax. It had to only have been a few hours since Maldric had happened.

Actually it has been about four years since he had happened, the acerbic voice in Myra's commented. She groaned into Robb's pillow but the smell was not the same without him there, seeing him each day and sleeping with the peace of having him near her had become a norm and now apparently an addiction.

Myra wanted him always. Though she felt his grey watch constantly on her body, it made her long for him more than anything else. She sighed sitting up, annoyed at herself. Grey Wind's yellow eyes watched her from the floor, while Silver stayed asleep only grunting at Myra's movement.

Twisting her fingers around the ends of her silver-hair Myra tried to think of what to do. She huffed smacking her hands on the mattress next to her. "it's not his fault" she spoke to the walls, avoiding Grey Wind's stare "Robb's and certainly not the boy's" she muttered, her violet eyes darted for a split second down to Grey Wind. She pursed her lips at him for that split moment, before she finally lowered her line of vision to her slowly inflating stomach. Myra drew up her hand rubbing soft circles over the bump under her cotton shift. "There is no fault" she sighed.

Grey Wind's head sudden appeared in her line of sight, he pressed his nose against her belly. Myra smiled scratching behind his ear, she took in a deep breath as she thought of the dark haired boy who looked so remarkably like Robb.

The poor boy had lost his mother, Myra bit her lip and felt as though Robb's wolf could see what she had already decided to do. Myra reached across the bed careful not to disturb Silver, while grabbing a small blanket to wrap around herself. Grey Wind followed her out of the room, frightening the only maid that still appeared to be awake. The maid said that the lords and King were speaking and that the little Snow had been put in a room by Rickon.

Myra found herself knocking on the door beside Rickon's bedchamber. When there was no answer she had a true struggle between entering and leaving. She looked down at Grey Wind, which was barely necessary as the wolf was huge, grown and growing as much as the other Stark wolves. All at once Myra felt as though she had been hit on the head. 'Snow' the maid had called the boy a Snow. That made Myra's stomach flip, she had been a bastard, she had been adopted and she in that very moment she decided the boy would be a Stark as well.

Opening the door, Myra saw the boy sitting on a bed alone in the fire lit room. He had been playing with his fingers in his lap, and had jerked when Myra had entered. His familiar grey eyes took Myra breath away while the grey eyes in question were stuck on her, but they filled with fear when they saw Grey Wind enter.

When Myra realized why the boy was scared she closed the door and approached him "Oh, don't be frightened. He won't harm you. I promise…" Myra stood before the seated boy, who could not seem to pry his eyes away from Grey Wind. "You believe me, don't you?" the boy finally turned towards Myra.

She wanted to gasp again. As he seemed to assess her with his unsure gaze she tried to comprehend how anyone could resemble Robb so much. He slowly nodded his small dark head.

"I'm glad" Myra attempted give him a reassuring smile. "May I sit?" she asked. He nodded again. Grey Wind took a place before them as she took her seat beside the boy. "I am Myra" she introduced herself. "And that is Grey Wind" she gestured for the great wolf to come closer, towards the edge of the bed. The boy took in a sharp breath, curling in and shifting closer to the safety of Myra side. "He's nothing to be worried about," Myra reached out stroked the wolf's head. "He's your…" her words suddenly clogged her throat, but she felt the boy fidget next to her and forced herself to push past her own discomfort "your father's wolf. He will protect you." Myra smiled as the boy raised a tentative hand out to Grey Wind.

She prayed to the gods, Grey Wind would accept the boy and was grateful when he did as she had hoped. If the boy's appearance was not enough, Grey Wind's allowance of the boy to touch him was further proof of the child's relationship to Robb.

After time of cautiously petting Grey Wind's head the boy broke the silence "My name is Maldric" Myra took a minute to register the sound of his voice. She had never anyone so young speak before and she found it to be sweet, at once telling of his need for protection and guidance. "People I like call me Mal, because I like it better, because…" he abruptly seemed to catch his tongue between his teeth.

Myra had to grin, the boy certainly ran on, reminding her of Rickon and Robb. "Because…"

"My mother named me it…" another quiet fell over them. "Is he really my father?"

Myra nodded "I think so."

"Oh…" Maldric dropped his hand from Grey Wind's head.

"You do not like him." Myra tried.

"He looked angry at Uncle Aldric. He looked angry at me…"

"Oh…"

"Angry like the men that took mother…"

"I…" Myra took a breath, letting her own hand fall from Grey Wind's head. "Do you remember her?"

Maldric nodded "She was going to give me a mouse for my fifth name-day."

"A mouse?"

"One man said people train them to do tricks..." Maldric volume rose a little.

"That's incredible!" Myra enthusiastically over compensating for his sad mood "Do you know when your name-day is?"

"Uncle Aldric said five months" the boy confidently held up four fingers.

"Hmm…" Myra lifted her hand to her stomach again "That's when the women say baby is due."

"You're having a baby!" Excitement suddenly flooded Maldric's face.

Myra nodded. "In here" she rubbed her stomach.

"In there?" Maldric spoke with awe.

Myra smiled at his gaping expression "Here" she took one of Maldric's palms and pressed them against her stomach.

"Is somet… It's moving!" he exclaimed, shuffling closer.

"I think the baby likes your voice…" Myra chuckled.

"Why?" his brow furrowed as he leaned his head towards the bump, as though he would be able to hear the baby the closer he was "I never met her."

"I bet the baby just recognizes you because it is going to be your sister or brother."

Maldric sat up, with his hands still on her belly and a look of being utterly lost "My sister?"

"That's right." Myra thought of what to say to help the boy along "The baby likes your father's voice too. You know, I think it a boy. You both think it's a girl."

Something flickered in the boy's gaze and he looked her directly in the eye "Who are you?"

Myra was sure to speak slowly and chose her words carefully "I am Myra. I am also your father's wife. And I will be your brother or sister's mother" Maldric looked down at his hands on her stomach, he seemed to be processing something, he frowned and moved his hands away.

"Oh…" Maldric sat back on the edge of the bed "will he send me away then?"

Myra caught on quickly to what he was saying "When the baby is born?" Maldric nodded "Of course not! I mean, unless… you do not want him? Do you want different father?" Myra watched as Maldric wilted and shrugged. Myra struggled to think of how respond. "I promise he is not always so angry." Her mood lightening did not seem to work "He's a bit like Grey Wind here. Not as scary as he looks" she chuckled in hopes of getting him to join in "… especially if he cares for you… Um… tomorrow you can meet your uncles too. If you remember that boy being carried when you first met me" Maldric gave the slightest of nods "that was your Uncle Bran and your Uncle Rickon stays in the next bedroom. I know that they will want to meet you" Maldric stared unmoved at the ground "And well I certainly do not want you to leave. I like having family around me."

"Family?" He turned his shaggy black head to look at her.

"If you want to be a Stark you can be."

"A Stark…"

"Like your father. You have to do one thing though." Myra pulled a stern face.

"What is it?"

"You have to tell stories about people and things you have had, memories..."

"You mean my mother?"

"I mean anyone, any places. Including your mother. Did you know her name?"

He shook his head "Sometimes people called her Nola."

"Good," Myra smiled encouragingly "I do not want you to ever forget her. It is important to remember." There a small pause when Myra thought of what to do to rest "How would you like it if we traded stories? I'll tell you about my memories and you tell me yours?"

"It sounds alright." He shrugged again. They talked and talked eventually Myra's fatigue and the tiredness that came with Maldric's age set in. Neither one of them noticed the door open or saw the weary figure walk into the room to take in the sight of Maldric cuddling into the warmth of Myra's side under several blankets.

* * *

As Robb absorbed the scene before him, he felt the peace that he always felt around Myra wash over him, he sighed down to Grey Wind, who had been watching him since he had entered the room "I don't deserve this" he smiled at the sleeping forms of his wife and son, suddenly feeling crushing tiredness sweep over him, he wanted nothing more than to bury himself in the scent and warmth of his little dragon.

Without much thought he closed the door, undressed to his breeches and tunic, climbing under the sheets to press against Myra's free side. As much as he disliked sharing her, this particular scenario did not annoy him so terribly. She immediately sighed turned her head to nuzzle into his chest. A small smile pulled at the corners of his mouth as tugged her hair up to his nose and began to drift off "Nola" he felt her hot breath on his chest.

Robb's brow creased. He realized that she knew who the woman was, deciding that he may as well have it done and over with, he sniffed at her hair and explained what he could "She was older than me…and Theon's idea of a gift for my fourteenth name-day, the day I saw inside a brothel for the first time."

"And…" her half asleep breath warmed the skin under his tunic.

"I must have seen her for a month, before Jon reminded me of the life of a Snow. I had asked why he never went, though he came of age almost a full month before I had. And when he explained I just could not do 'that' anymore… it turns out it was not soon enough…" he huffed a little.

"What does that mean?" she was more awake, pulling away from him though he held her tightly.

"I simply meant… I do not know what I meant. I just – I have made a Snow despite my best intentions." He fumbled for the best way to express his reason for distress.

She stopped pulling away, replying softly after relaxing back into him "I would have him be a Stark if you would."

"Truly?"

"Truly."

He thought of Jon and answered honestly. "I would like that..."

"Good." He heard a small laugh as she continued "I would have fought you for him." A scoff escaped Robb, as he started to drift off again,

"I have you now…" he heard the question in her soft murmur and felt her grip on him tighten.

"You have me always, my little dragon." He smiled against her hair.

The last thing he heard was her muffled voice utter "Mal says the baby's a girl too."

* * *

Maldric had been at Winterfell for four days, his Uncle Aldric had been Nola's only living relative and was only barely living at that. He had stayed at Winterfell for three days to help Maldric adjust and then he had left to seek 'a warm place to die' as he put it. Myra did her best to keep Maldric comfortable. Rickon was quick to be fascinated by the boy and Bran treated him with as much brotherly tolerance as he treated Rickon. The wolves still startled the boy, he had taken to tugging on and hiding slightly behind Myra's skirts when they appeared.

Something rather odd had occurred between he and Robb. Myra could have sworn one morning the two were sitting on a bench in the courtyard not talking and the next the father and son were rolling around, cracking their ribs with laughter. When Myra had asked Robb had simply stated something about mice and her not understanding when she had raised her brow in question.

All too soon on this day, four days after Maldric's arrival, Myra had to endure her first formal test as Queen. Her stomach had churned that morning. She had felt a bit better when Robb had presented her with the silver band that Hoster Tully had forged for her and that she had to wear for such an event. She felt better because Robb had weaved flowers over the silver band so that she wore both the wreath he had promised her and the crown.

The weight on her head made Myra want to hurl the hulk of metal off and far away. She tried to deduce what method Robb used to look so comfortable and confident and right with his beautiful bronze crown. But no matter how she tried she simply felt ridiculous, like child and imposter especially under the banner of a parlay as troops and lords looked on.

Four of them sat in chairs facing one another on the windswept field surrounding Winterfell. Stannis was a large man, with brown eyes and a bald head and a shadow of a beard across his large jaw. The deep lines of face lead Myra to believe that he was rarely ever anything but serious and severe. There was also a lean young woman in men's clothing, perhaps a few years older than Myra, with short black hair, dark eyes and a sharp nose in a thin face. She was introduced as Asha Greyjoy, who was captured by Stannis on his labourious trek down through the North from the Wall. Robb had informed Myra that Asha was present because she was the most recent heir to the Iron Islands as well as Theon's elder sister and last living kin.

Robb had welcomed them and proceeded to silently maintain eye contact with Stannis, waiting for the Baratheon to crack under the pressure and speak first. Which he did.

"On the ancient bonds between ours Houses I would have the great North unite with legitimate Bartheon force to reclaim the Iron Throne." Stannis' hard tone seemed make his words land heavy on the earth.

Robb calmly looked to consider what Stannis was saying before replying "To the best of my knowledge those ties ended when a Bartheon took my father's head."

"A Bartheon who looked like a Lannister." Stannis retorted.

"Aye. Alas, Bartheon was his name and the House he spoke for." Robb spoke coolly.

"He did not speak for me."

"And neither do I." Robb carried on as though he were explaining something apparent "Lord Stannis I have no plan for winning the Iron Throne for myself let alone anyone else, I have no desire to even see the thing… look at your forces, look at the North. You have helped but I would wager you have lost more men and suffered worse this far North than you possibly thought you could. You are not made for this place …"

Myra sat finding it exciting to watch Robb in such action almost as exciting as see such an odd shade of red on Stannis' face as he began speaking again "We fought against the Wildlings. We…"

"And I'm sure all of Westeros thanks you for independently choosing to aid the neutral Night's Watch for the good of the lately and absolutely splintered Seven Kingdoms." Robb interrupted him.

"I…"

He was cut-off abruptly by Robb once more. "We in the North are certainly grateful and in thanks for your truly selfless efforts we will allow you and your dwindling, and no doubt weary, men safe passage back to the South, where we hope you will find the particular climate that suits you. The Bartheons sit on the Southern throne as you know, they are your family and I find that family is often fairly, if not very, forgiving."

"Bartheons…" Stannis sneered "The day those children are family is the day Queen Regent Cersei squeezes out a squealing pig that looks like Robert. Tommen sits on the Iron Throne now that Joffery, the incompetent little snot, has released the people from his stupidity. Do not pretend not to know what they truly are…" it did not take much to know he was referring to the incestuous parentage of the children.

"Well it is up to you to make the claims that you will, though it may save you a great deal of head…and neck ache to plead a case for forgiveness based on the ties of family… Just friendly advice Lord Stannis, before you leave our Kingdom."

Stannis' face curdled as he peered at Robb, his gaze darted for the briefest moment to Myra "Is that the same plea you used for the newest Snow at Winterfell."

"I suppose I will have to sniff out the paid ears and mouths you have placed in my midst."

"I would never spy on a friend. Word simply travels with speed across these barren, wasted plains." Stannis jibed.

"Then you will also know he is a Stark. We would have him known and treated as our first son and heir" Myra spoke up, speaking as firmly as she could though her voice still felt small. She felt even smaller under the sets of eyes were fixed on her. She could feel the strength that Robb seemed to be willing her way, she held her ground silently meeting Stannis' scowl.

His glare slid back to Robb eventually "It seems I have no choice."

"Because you are a rational man." Robb smiled, though his eyes remained cold and steely.

"I would ask to stay in your keep. But it has become known that the Northern guest right is not always a guarantee." Robb gaze became stormy and his jaw clenched at Stannis' blatantly flippant allusion to the Red Wedding.

"As you say we are friends. But do as you will, though know an invitation is extended." Robb spoke in a clipped tone.

Myra could feel the tension build between the two men locked in their own type of contest. Her violet gaze flicked around them for some method of escape, when she noticed the quiet Asha again.

"Lady Greyjoy" Myra spoke, the focus of the tent suddenly snapped to her once more, Myra tried to keep herself together under it. Still grateful that with Robb close by she could sense some peace rolling towards her to draw strength from as opposed to the anger and adrenaline she had drawn from on earlier occasions. "Forgive me, I am not familiar with the titles in the Iron Islands. Are you 'Your Grace' or 'Lady'?"

"Captain." The woman answered curtly.

"That's good to know" Myra commented, sincerely interested in such trivia, she continued "I suppose now that Lord Stannis has come to terms with us it is your turn."

"My turn?" The striking woman practically spat "I am Iron Born of the House Greyjoy, we do not negotiate. We. Do. Not. Sow. we pay the Iron price for what we take."

Myra could help but smile "I am sorry, what you say is not humourous. You simply remind me of your brother…" Asha blanched ever so slightly at the mention of Theon. Myra could sense Robb tense almost imperceptibly as he noticed Asha's reaction as well. "You must have seen him. He mentioned escaping Lord Stannis…"

"That insect is nothing like a Greyjoy" Asha spoke with venom in her tone but Myra could detect the sliver of concern in her dark jagged glower.

"Maybe so" Myra responded "but as my husband pointed out, a name holds significance and your brother's name is Greyjoy."

"State your meaning." Asha spat though her tenor suggested she knew exactly where Myra was directing the conversation-cum-negotiation.

"Theon Greyjoy will remain in our keep, and your ships stay docked at the Pyke. Away for the Riverlands, the North and any lands under our dominion." Robb filled in for Myra, not missing a beat.

"Why would I do that for a life that is worthless to me?" Asha successfully hid any feeling she held for Theon this time, but the damage had already been done with her previous slip.

"Because your brother's life is not worthless to you" Robb stated plainly "Lord Stannis could have killed him the moment he was caught and yet you stepped in to stall him. All in the name of proving the stag's respect for the practices of the Northmen?" Robb shook his crowned head disbelievingly amused. "You care for your younger brother, Captain Greyjoy. Your little brother has slipped just out of your safekeeping once again and yet his life has never been more in your hands…You have choices to make."

Asha stared at them "And if an Iron Queen were to rise out of the past as the King of Winter has?"

"Then so be it, so long as the Riverlands, the North and any lands under our dominion are not affected by it, ever. Of course we would require four highborn males from your houses, renewed every twenty years for…well for lack of a better term, forever." Myra had to agree with these terms by Robb, given the culture of the Iron Born even she was hesitant to trust their word and given the wealth that the Greyjoys would amass with such freedom to plunder they could become a formidable threat to North without some sort of guarantee.

Asha gave them the same blank look again, so slowly Myra could barely notice it a smile curved the woman's mouth. "You know I've always preferred capturing Southern goods…"

"With all that Lannister yellow..." Robb smiled back "Most people do."

* * *

It had been just over six weeks since negotiations had occurred, Myra had essentially attacked Robb's body once they were in private following they end of the meeting. Since that time the swell of Myra's stomach under the billow of her dress had gone from one that could hardly be seen to being lightly outlined. Robb could no longer lay against her stomach without causing her to run to a chamber pot or fearing that he may crush the baby. He had taken to laying or sitting behind her to rub soothing leaves against her belly or rub the ache in her lower back. He did continue to rest his head by her midsection to speak to the baby though.

Maldric had adjusted well. He had called Robb, 'Poppa' one day while Robb was answering his endearingly inane questions about the world, in that very second Robb had looked as though he were going to burst with joy. Maester Lowel had muttered to Myra that in the free city in Essos that Nola must have come from the name meant Father.

Just over a week and half following the meeting with and the departure of Stannis and Asha, a reluctant Robb and Grey Wind had travelled west to join the Northern lords and troops selected to accompany Asha and begin the process of picking from families. Stannis had been sent with a similar larger 'escort' South to the Twins where his 'escort' would be carried on by Tully bannermen.

Now six weeks later, Robb was due back and Myra could not wait. Her dreams of the burning red eyes had returned and her nightmares tormented her with scalding horrors that she did not want to remember and shook from her head as soon as she woke. Silver had not been faring better, if she was not accompanying her girl around the fortress, Myra often found her wolf asleep under Robb's side of the bed. Maldric had improved the most from the time Robb had left to when he was to return, the boy had found a friend and teacher in Rickon, while Bran had found someone other than Rickon to roll his eyes about at Myra.

Myra had grown used to walking through the shadowy, greyness of Winterfell with Silver no longer following her, the place was not abandoned but at twilight there was a unique type of serenity and calm. She enjoyed watching as the place transform with the reconstruction that had occurred following the sack of the fortress.

Robb had loved the smell of the herbs she burned, she smiled to herself as she remembered the feel his hot mouth against her throat when he said it remind him of her. She raised the burning bushel she had in her hand up to a dark corner of a hallway that lead to the two closed doors that acted as the casual entrance to the great hall lit by the light spilling through open end of the passage.

"I don't know why he keeps you so pretty…"

Myra dropped the burning bundle of herbs, it fell apart and crumbled to ash when it hit the ground. The unfamiliar iron voice behind her made Myra skin crawl and her teeth grit. She had no idea who it was but already every instinct in her body told her to scream at the top of her lungs. At that second she was so terrified she could not swallow without choking, Myra willed herself to turn about and when she did all she wanted to turn back around and pretend he was not there.

Her violet collided had with the pale familiar eyes of Roose Bolton, but because she knew him to be dead, she assumed this fleshy, fat-lipped man was Ramsay Snow. Myra needed no more than a second to feel her chest seize and her blood chill. The gruesome smile he was giving her, coupled with deadly glint in his eye prevented Myra from even being able to open her mouth. She was tense, beyond reason, beyond any real feeling other than terror. She thought of her family the boys sleeping in their beds with this psychopath somehow in the castle.

He began moving towards her, still smiling viciously. "I believe my friend Reek is staying with you…"

Myra tried moving her jaw again without success, though she did succeed in pulling her arms a bit around her stomach.

"Ooo!" The bastard's pale eyes filled with excitement "A baby!" Myra's eyes widened, a horrible sickening joy filled Ramsay's expression, it was one that even she was certain Roose would find unnerving "those women are my favourite…more skin…" Myra heart began pounding impossibly faster as she recalled Theon's flayed fingers.

She felt weak and she hated it. As he got closer to her corner, Myra could feel her fingers began to buzz with energy, she stomach stopped quivering, as she thought of her baby her throat began to loosen. He was within arm's reach now, Myra tried pushing him and she tried speaking, but she had been so tense with fear nothing worked right everything felt heavier. He laughed at her. Myra became angry at herself, she wanted to show him she could put up a fight, she might have lost anyway but she knew she was stronger than this.

"I wondered if Reek's ever wanted to see a child born before it was ready. It's quite exhilarating." He came near blocking the light of the setting sun almost entirely from Myra's view. "Perhaps your husband will be interested… It is unfortunate but I find mothers often miss the experience entirely, I suppose it becomes rather difficult to see without eyelids or eyes for that matter…" he sighed, though his look was one of complete glee.

"Monster…" she was able to rasp and her pushes became just a trace stronger.

He simply chuckled again. "You had to go and speak. Just when I was beginning see why your King kept you so clean…" he was close enough Myra could smell the raw death on his breath.

There was a growl and a new voice broke in behind Ramsay's looming figure "Always in trouble with someone, aren't you dragon?"

* * *

**Phew long! Positive will definitely catch tonight's episode on time.**

**Also saw Avengers. Not disappointed.**


	9. Chapter 9: Gilded Return

**Happy Friday! Getting into it…**

* * *

**Chapter Nine –Gilded Return**

_There was a growl and a new voice broke in behind Ramsay's looming figure "Always in trouble with someone, aren't you dragon?"_

Ramsay wretched marked face pulled into a snarl, Myra did all she could to keep from flinching as the bastard turned to face the voice "It's rude to interr-"

It seemed both Myra and Ramsay were taken aback by who they saw. At first Myra had thought her panicked hearing had been tricking her, but now she saw Jaime Lannister's unmistakable un-bearded smirk standing at the opening of the hall. Her jaw finally went slack, but instead of being able to speak she was left to gape at strange turn of events. She was torn between running to hug to him in relief and pressing herself further back into the grey wall.

"I must commend you. You've gotten her to shut up for two whole minutes together" Jaime tone was light and jovially, but something about how he steadily walked into the shadows towards the Bolton bastard was threatening his green eyes fixed on Ramsay. Myra watched , unable to tear her gaze away, despite Jaime's strong stance the tension she saw in the bastard's back had her fearful for the Lannister. Even with his back to her Myra knew eyes like Ramsay's, she knew the mind he had behind them, she understood that though he was despicable he was also calculating, perhaps not enough to out-wit Jaime but still not to be underestimated. "You look like your father… you are Ramsay Snow" Jaime pronounced the 'Snow' with deliberate emphasis "correct?" he barred his teeth in a hard smile, taking the bastard's right hand with his own in a forced handshake.

"I" Ramsay began speaking to be cut short by another growl. Myra suddenly realized that Silver had been present at Jaime's side. She wanted to praise her wolf for not attacking the bastard, or Jaime for that matter, however her mouth was still numb and hanging open. She felt very much like Rickon in that moment, adding to the odd string of thoughts filling her head.

Ramsay's head tilted down to look to Jaime's right to see Silver crouching, ready to attack at a moment's notice. Once again it seemed that both Myra and the bastard's gaze caught on the same thing, that had previously been obscured by the Lannister's frame. '…he was not wholly the man I remember him being…' Roose Bolton's rancid words at the Twins echoed through the frazzled channels of her mind.

In the time that it had taken Myra to convince herself that her vision was once again not fooling her, Jaime had begun speaking as coolly as his had before, his severe green eyes not shifting from Ramsay's face.

"Mmmmm... were you looking at my hand?" Jaime raised his dumbfounding hand… his dumbfounding, brand new, undeniably gold right hand. All the while still clasping the bastard's right hand in a prolonged handshake with his intact hand. Jaime had caused Ramsay to step back as he had carried on walking a few confident paces passed Myra after he had gotten a hold of the bastard's right hand. She could now see the pale man's dark eyes widened, he appeared to anticipate Jaime's intent as his mouth opened and he began shaking his head. By his reaction it was apparent that Ramsay was a survivor, he would do what he could to save his own ashy skin, including submit to Jaime.

"No it's fine... quite fine really" Jaime continued, his gaze shifted to contemplatively focus on his raised hand. He spoke softly as though he had forgotten the anyone was there. "It's rather odd... heavy, heavier than one would expect." His voice hardened and his eyes snapped back to the Bolton bastard, "That's an interesting scar on you have there on your face... I always think scars should have deserving stories of origin." Though he smiled his jade eyes remained brutal and his grip tightened on Ramsay's hand, enough so that the bastard stumbled slightly towards Jaime, who grinned widely, his teeth glinted in the dim light with thinly veiled menace. He leaned forward a hair, looking the oily haired man directly in the eye "Off you go…"

With clear relief the pale man nodded his head, but still flinched when Jaime finally released his hand. Myra felt a new tug of fear in her stomach at the prospect of a free Ramsay around Winterfell. She heard a small gasp of alarm, before Jaime dropped his golden fist on the man's head. He had seen through to the bastard's rotten innards after all. Myra felt her own fear dissipate for a breath.

"I would have given him a head start, but as I would have caught him anyway..." Jaime sighed, kicking the bastard's head none too lightly "this saves me the trouble" grinning smugly at her still gaping face "how are you Birdy?"

'…_annoying little birdy, squawking away at me…'_ his voice ran through Myra's head as her mouth began regaining feeling "I- I..." '…_snapped its soft little neck…' _she heard more of his words in her ears.

"Fairly inarticulate, I see... do you recall when you threatened me?" He smiled wistfully as though recalling a fond memory.

She remembered that night in the camp, she remembered how to use her tongue, how to find strength to be brave "I don't need to call for help do I?"

"He's still alive…" Jaime nudged the unconscious putrid lump of a man with his foot "I don't see why..."

"'I swear I'll find something sharp to kill you with...'"Myra mimicked what had been as good as his parting words to her at Riverrun.

"Ah..." he grimaced at the recollection "well things change, Birdy." He looked his gold hand for a moment, before he focused his warm eyes, the eyes of her friend from that dank dungeon in Riverrun, back on her.

A slow smile crept across Myra's mouth "They do change…" She realized that he no longer despised her. He had found some more of himself since they had last seen one another. The ability to change, she had always seen it in him and now it seemed that he saw it himself as well "…and I'm glad to see that you are as I knew you, Jim."

"Really" his tone was skeptical as he raised his gold hand.

"In the important ways, I mean... though I will admit I am intrigued..."

He sighed "It's a long story, I'll tell you but …"

Just then Silver brushed against Myra's side and suddenly as though struck by a fork of lightening the shock of what had just occurred hit her. Her violet eyes slid down to Ramsay's unconscious body, in her mind each image of what had happened crashed into her, along with images of what could have been. It only took a spilt second for this barrage to take place, so when she spoke she cut Jaime off. "Jaime" she began abruptly serious, causing him to wear a confused expression "Thank y…"

"Do not do that. I just saw the unconscious guards and then followed your wolf…"

"But…"

"Time for that later, along with all of the long stories, first there is someone who you should meet."

Myra decided to let him have his way, as she looked at him it was difficult not to remember the fun they could have... "Your wife?" she asked dryly.

He laughed "Gratefully no." He turned to leave the shaded hall. Myra was about to follow, with her direwolf, when suddenly she stopped him.

"Wait!" the silver-haired girl called, he had barely fully turned when Myra hastily wrapped her arms around his torso in a hug.

"What are you doing?" the surprise was evident in his voice. His arms were raised out to his sides.

"I had to do something or I would have burst, especially if you won't let me thank you." He lowered his arms for the briefest of moments, then quickly pulled away.

"Why are you grinning like that?" he asked when he saw her face.

"I made you uncomfortable" Myra stated as though it were some sort of triumph. They began walking towards the courtyard.

"Yes Birdy, the list of irritating things you do grows impossibly longer…"

Myra was about to respond when her violet eyes fell on the two guards tasked with watching the main gate, they had cuts on their heads, but were standing and talking to two of the patrolling guards. They stood to attention as she approached, the elder of the injured spoke "Your grace we apo…"

"Please none of that. Are you hurt badly?" she addressed the two injured men her concern clear in her voice. They shook their heads. "Good and no one else is hurt?" They shook their heads once more "Thank the gods…" she breathed, before carrying on "There is a man unconscious in the passage before the side doors of the Great Hall, could you please move him to a prisoner's cell?" They nodded their comprehension. "Then be sure to get your wounds tended." The four nodded and left to fulfill their assigned tasks.

Jaime was casting a queer expression her way when she glanced back at him. "Jim?" She asked half to annoy him and half to mock his humourous expression as they continued on their way.

"Suiting a crown well, are we dragon?"

She touched the top of her unadorned silver head "Hallucinating in your old age, eh Ji…" Myra voice trailed off. At the gate in the courtyard with a servant stood a stunning girl, a mirror of Catelyn Stark. A red-haired girl who could only be… "Sansa..." Myra gasped. Unable to hide her disbelief, as the girl nodded. Myra was unsure of what to say in such a situation, the only action that seemed to be a good idea was introducing herself "I'm Myra, your brother's..."

"Wife" the composed girl finished for her. Myra nodded her silver head. Sansa was a petite thing, though she was tall and held herself with the poise of what Myra was sure made a lady. "You are my sister." Myra nodded again.

"Robb should be returning soon… Are you tired? Would you like to go to your room to rest?" Myra felt awkward, she did not know what Sansa had been through, but her light blue eyes spoke volumes of sadness and pain, leaving Myra with no idea of how to speak to her. "Or eat?"

Sansa's clear blue gaze rested on Myra for a spell before she replied "I am quite tired." Though the girl spoke softly each of her words had a crushing saddening impact. In her stare Myra could see that the girl meant that she was tired, not only in her body but in her soul and mind. Deep down she wanted to collapse.

"Your old rooms have been kept ready for you…"

"I think I will go there then." Sansa elegantly bowed her head slightly and began moving to the castle.

"D-" Myra coughed past her uncertainty as Sansa turned back to her "Do you want company? Or to see your younger brothers?"

"No. I think I will rest tonight. A servant will be all I require."

Myra nodded. Her tongue felt as though it had expanded to three times its normal size as she and Jaime watched Sansa leave with the servant she had requested. Myra stood in silence with Jaime and Silver, wanting nothing more than to comfort the girl. She was only four name-days older than Sansa but Myra still felt as though she should have answers for and the power to protect the girl.

"She needs her family" Myra sighed, eyes stuck on the where Sansa had past beyond her sight. She was practically a stranger "she needs her brother…" out of the corner of her eye she saw Jaime's blonde head nodding in agreement. In flash he vanished from her side.

Myra had to catch up as the events of this single night had gotten away from her once again. The sounds of smashing and cracking and squelching were filling the square of the fortress's courtyard. More people had filed into the dark space, Myra could discern Brienne's large blue form among them. The happiness of seeing her friend again was undercut however as she watched her husband pound his fists into Jaime Lannister's face on the dirt ground before her.

"SON OF A BITCH!" Robb yelled between punches,

"Stop! Robb!" Myra called desperately, trying to reach him without being hit herself, but he seemed a man possessed.

Robb kept swinging. Myra was grateful and slight confused by the fact that Jaime was not using his gold hand. Though it could easily have caused serious damage he let it fall limply to his side. Now that Myra had come to grips with what was happening she realized that Jaime was not even really using his left hand either, he was not actually defending himself. Robb pulled the front of Jaime's shirt so that he could look him in the eye "Brienne says you lost Ayra." Jaime kept his blood-spattered mouth shut, and Robb's grey eyes became crazed again. "YOU LOST HER!" he pulled his arm about hit Jaime's already battered face.

This time Myra stepped in before he started again. She grabbed Robb's bloodied arm "Robb" she whispered. He heard her. He looked up at her, his grey eyes watery in the moonlight. Myra knew why he had been broken by Brienne's news, she felt her own heartbreak as she looked down into his eyes "Sansa needs you." She spoke softly.

Robb closed his eyes, taking in a shaky breath he released Jaime, who fell back against the dirt with a huff. When Robb was standing, he was close enough to nuzzle his nose against Myra's sighing as he did, and she knew all the things he wanted to say. She felt his love, her eyes dropped closed. "Go. She's in her room." She nodded felt him nod. "I love you" she said quiet enough for only him to hear. Her eyes opened "Go." He took in another calming breath and left.

She watched him leave, before turning to the bleeding Lannister. Brienne was kneeling by his head already trying to tend to his wounds. "Brienne" Myra greeted her friend as she moved to kneel by Jaime. "I am glad to see you. Despite…" she gestured to Jaime, worry written all over her face.

"I as well, your grace."

"Please, I am still Myra" she corrected Brienne as she looked down at Jaime, her face twisted at what she saw.

"That good huh?" Jaime asked with a smile.

The violet-eyed girl scoffed. Of course he would replay past exchanges as though his being crushed to a pulp again was all a simple farce. "Better. If you can imagine…" she smiled at his bruised and swelling face. "I swear if I'm always in trouble then you are always getting yourself beaten up" He began to chuckle then he winced. Myra expression became even more concerned. "Calm down Myra." Jaime urged "You too Brienne. I have suffered much worse. It is a nice sky and I simply want to lay here awhile…" adding under his breath, with a slight tsk and shake of his blonde head "… Such women…"

"Such a Jim" Myra smiled tightly, huffing in mock annoyance. Though she winced for him when he chuckled again.

There was a cough and Myra raised her gaze to notice the courtyard partially filled with servants and travelers. While their conversation had been too quiet for others to hear, Myra could see that her actions alone were enough to draw unease. Clearing her throat she spoke to the crowd "If you have tasks to do please fulfill them and then please take your rest. Guests will be shown to their rooms." She caught sight of Greatjon "Lord Umber I trust you to see that those whom require guarding or specific care receive that attention" Lord Umber bowed his head, though Myra did not miss the final curious look he gave her, Jaime and Brienne.

As the people began moving she thought about to having to move Jaime soon. Myra wondered if people would always find her friendship with Jaime so peculiar. And Robb...

She hoped that he was not having a difficult time with his sister. She hoped that Sansa was not suffering any longer. She… Myra's violet gaze suddenly scorched a trail to Jaime's face. It dawned on Myra why Jaime would always be suspect in the North, it was not only because of Bran, but also for the reason that Robb had beaten him.

"What does it mean?" Both Jaime and Brienne shifted their focus to the silver-haired girl. "What does it mean that you 'lost Ayra'?"

* * *

**Mother's Day Sunday…**

**Anyone know what to get someone whose tastes are impossible to figure out?**


	10. Chapter 10: Words and Worlds

**Sunday again… Monday's gonna be full. Edit, edit...**

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**Chapter Ten – Words and Worlds**

Robb did his best to wipe as much of the Kingslayer's face off of his knuckles as he walked through the restored halls of Winterfell to see his younger sister for the first time in months. He did not know why but he was nervous. He had never been overly close with Sansa, Myra was the only woman he could speak to, and the only other females he had ever felt remotely comfortable talking to were his mother and Ayra, who may as well have been a rough and tumble boy. More than that he no idea of she had been through. As walked towards her door he felt guilt consume for not finding her himself, for laughing while she was missing, for losing her in the first place, for getting married and finding love while she and Ayra suffered unknown ills.

He stood at her door, wishing this once that Grey Wind had accompanied him instead of lingering around Myra and Silver as he did so often. Now he was a door he was not going to walk away, taking a deep he knocked and entered when she invited him in.

Robb had to remind himself to breathe for a moment when his grey eyes landed on her, he had forgotten how much she resembled their mother. As she sat on her bed in the dim firelight, brushing her red hair, Robb thought seemed to have grown to look, even hold more of their mother's composure.

"Sansa" his soft voice broke the silence.

She stopped brushing and turned where she sat to face him. He was struck by the torrent of emotions he saw hidden in the blank stare of her blue eyes. "Your grace" she bowed her head slightly. All of her actions and words were cold and purposeful. Robb suddenly felt anger rise from the soles of his feet all the way through his body. They had changed, done something horrible. Robb may not have been close to Sansa, but he had known her as the naïve and innocent, if not silly, girl who believed in magic and fairy stories. They had taken that away from her, she was broken and lost.

"Sansa you don't have to call me that. I am still Robb" he moved to sit by her "I'm still your big brother."

She shook her head and stared in the fire "You are a King now… that changes everything."

"It changes some things… most things, but the important things are the same."

She took a harsh inhale through her nose, lolling her head back to look up to the ceiling "It is the most important thing. A King is a King and as soon as becomes one he is surrounded by snakes. You must not allow yourself to be blind."

"Sansa" Robb had look at her as she spoke, utterly astonished by the change in his sister, he barely recognized her. She had been forced to develop some sense to survive in that Southern hell. He decided that honesty would likely break through to her, especially after she had been circled by lies and liars for so long "Your words ring true to me" her eyes shifted back to him. "But you should know you are no longer in the South" he watched to be sure his words were sinking in "you are surround here by people who care for you and love you. You are safe here…" he stopped talking. She faced him now her blue eyes stared through his own, she looked him truly and deeply for a long time.

Slowly her eyes became glossy in the firelight and as soon as the first tear fell, water began freely and silently flowing down her cheeks. She seemed to collapse so her forehead landed against his chest, he heard the brush clatter to the ground. It took him that sound in the quiet to wrap his arms around her.

"I wanted home so badly Robb. I wanted mother, you, Bran and Rickon…father…" her watery voice spoke through her tears he tried to be comforting, but when she mentioned their father he could not help but stiffen slightly "…it was horrible. When I close my eyes…" she swallowed thickly. He knew exactly what she was describing. He still heard the screams of dying men and boys, he recalled the smell of their waste as they died, he saw their mutilated and lifeless bodies... But Sansa, and perhaps Ayra too, had seen their father. Robb did not know what, if anything could compare to that.

He wanted her to tell him everything. Upon his return from the Iron Islands, he had unexpectedly found Brienne waiting at the gates of Winterfell. She had informed him that his sisters had been found, but the Lady of Tarth had only gotten as far saying that Ayra was lost before Robb had seen red… perhaps he had not acted Kingly or rationally but he definitely felt brotherly. Now he was feeling the same way but differently, he wanted Sansa to tell him how she had come to change and confide in him so that he could protect her properly. Robb wanted her to let go of what harm she had had done to her, so she could be cheerful. He wanted to deal with the monsters that hurt her and any of his family himself, so that they could be free to live happily.

Robb was unsure of how to get her to tell him just what had happened, he thought of finding Myra. His violet-eyed girl had gotten Bran and Mal and Rickon and just about everyone else to a place where things could be better and wounds could heal.

But suddenly Sansa began speaking again, her voice was more even now, as words poured out of her "Every day I would have to profess my love for Joffery, I would have to lie for my life. His mother would make me publically state it at least three dozen times daily, she was so insistent on our marriage, I do not fully know how she could hate me enough to want me with that beast… "

"He was a spoiled hog…" Robb agreed, clambering to have common ground with Sansa.

"He would…" she cut herself off.

A new sort of fear ate at him almost immediately. "'He would' what?" Robb asked. She did not answer, Robb pulled away from her bracing her shoulders an arm's length away from his embrace. "Sansa, 'he' what?"

She swallowed, her blue gaze drifted back to the firelight "He would beat me for amusement and as punishment for your victories" Robb fingers involuntarily clenched on her shoulders "Actually" she laughed with no humour, new water brimming in her eyes as she stared at the fire "'A King should never strike his lady'… I should thank his mother for telling him that at least…" she added bitterly, before her tone softened and became distant "… he still had his White Cloaks…"

"Son of whore!" Robb finally cracked, after struggling to stop his focus from going hazy, all of Robb's senses became distorted with anger. Sansa's lip quivered and the quiet tears started again. He instantly pulled her into a hug, he wanted her to feel safe, it was the least he could do for now... His expression remained fierce, as he consoled his sister. Robb thought of finding Joffery's corpse and breaking each bone in the dead bastard's body and dumping them on Cersei head, after of course killing each of the White Cloaks he could get his hands on in the most painful manner he could think of. Second to his rage, his guilt was unbearable "Sansa I am so sorry."

If how she had been acting earlier had been any example, it was clear that Sansa had to act and learn to hide or bury her emotions. He wondered how she had been able to keep herself from falling apart for so long.

"You did not know…"

"They will pay for it, I promise." He vowed.

Sansa shook her head, speaking slowly and clearly "No. I want to be home. I don't want to lose anyone else."

Robb squeezed his eyes shut, breathing to collect himself "If that is what you…" he replied, feeling as though he were being punched in the gut "…want" he finished with reluctance.

She nodded "When Ser Jaime and Brienne found me at the Eyrie I barely wanted to hope. Lord Baelish had kept so hidden for so long, at times I it seemed that his intent was for me to forget my life here."

"That was who took you? If you were there before she died why would Aunt Lysa or even Littlefinger not return you?"

"I was not always there. The Hound, he never struck me even when Joffery commanded, he saved me… after the Blackwater battle he said he would ransom me to you. Then in the Riverlands Lord Baelish tracked me and took me to the Eyrie. He said that it was dangerous at Winterfell and that if you lost I would be hunted. Aunt Lysa agreed to keep me, pretending that I was Lord Baelish's bastard. She and Cousin Robert were… unwell if I put it kindly. All day and night she howled on about her love for Lord Baelish, the baby they lost, the fact he was finally her husband … it was impossible to ignore though, that she was still jealous of his love for mother and eventually she grew jealous of me… she tried pushing me out the moon door cut into the floor of the throne room at the Eyrie, after she saw him kiss me" at that Robb found himself filled with tension once again. She was still alive at least, but…

"He kissed you?" Fear and anger bubbled within him.

"Yes, I do not think he truly meant to, he stopped Aunt Lysa…" Sansa's shook her head against his chest sadly, sniffing as she continued "she cried and said she had killed Lord Ayran for him... Lord Baelish threw out of the moon door anyway. I was the only one who saw, I felt certain he would never let me go. If Ser Jaime were not a Lannister I doubt I would be here. In truth if Lady Brienne had not been herself I doubt that I would have so readily left the Vale… I travelled with them and heard of Nymeria protecting people in the Riverlands. Also we heard word of a girl who had killed 'the Tickler', a man who tortured small folk for sport… if I had not recognized her in passing, Ayra would have likely continued on with her head down, avoiding my gaze." Sansa took a moment before she carried on "Robb I swear to you she was not our sister as we would recall her. Ser Jaime and Lady Brienne had to restrain her after she tired escape two nights in a row. We talked as we did and have before, she was still Ayra but her anger was in all that she did. Her grim obsession with revenge tainted her every thought. Each night I would hear her repeat a list of those she wished to kill… Ser Ilyn, Ser Meryn, Queen Cersei, Dunsen, Raff the Sweetling," she repeated the list that was long for a person of Ayra's age and stature "... and even the Mountain, before his death at another's hands. Ayra said the number had been larger, but many had already died… the Hound had been one of the people on the list, but she had left him for dead on the plains of the Riverlands."

"She left him for dead?" Robb questioned.

Sansa nodded once more. "She said that she had heard the screams at the Twins, she had been close to you and …mother when 'that' wedding happened. The Hound had found her in the Riverlands shortly after he had lost me, he planned on ransoming her instead. He knocked her unconscious to keep her from running into the Twins. She said she saw mother through a fogged glass in her wolf's eyes. She said she saw Bran, Rickon and you howl for us. She said she saw you silver-haired wife. She said a lot before she slipped off, away into the night…" she broke the faster pace she had taken, slowing down as she went on "we searched for her again but she moves like a cat now and left no trace of herself anywhere or on anyone."

Robb had no idea how to take the impossible tale that Sansa was telling him. In the time since Jon Ayran's death to this very night now, so much had occurred to him alone a part of could not believe so much more had fit into that same frame time for sisters.

He had nothing to say, he was not even sure what he was feeling exactly. "Things will be better now, Sansa." Robb offered, feeling desperately like a failure "I promise. You're home now, Bran and Rickon will be relieved to see you…" he strained to drum up more to comfort her, he thought of the little girl he used to tease. "We'll find you a good, honourable Northern man to marry…" He was interrupted by the sound of Sansa's soft laughter. "What is it?" He asked looking down at the top of her red head.

"Nothing, you simply sound like father. Only now I no longer blindly want Joffery or any King… Robb…" Sansa pulled away to look him directly in the eye. She said the next very deliberately and paced out "I am married…" Robb felt his heart drop and pulse speed up at the same time. She had not married Joffery and she had run away… with the Hound. Could she be married to him? Robb's mind raced, while his mouth remained stuck shut. Nonetheless she seemed to see the questions reflected in his grey eyes, while his heart ached at the truth he saw in her young face. The Hound… no one could be worse, Robb thought to himself until Sansa spoke again. "…to Tyrion Lannister…"

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**Wednesday next. Thinking of going back and splitting story, it is long in the flesh… or in internet code. New episode tonight!**


	11. Chapter 11: Lost Lion, Lost Lines

**Guess meant Saturday…**

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**Chapter Eleven – Lost Lion, Lost Lines**

"Bad things have happened." Robb had muttered tiredly against her neck after crawling into their bed. He told her of everything that had occurred he talked of how his sister had been forced to marry a man who was now a fugitive, how Ayra had run away, how he had no plan as to how to fix things…

Though his worries added to her own, Myra felt relieved after telling him of Ramsay Snow's sudden reappearance. Upon leaving Jaime and Brienne's company in the courtyard Myra was sure could see Ramsay's pale silhouette following her in shadow she passed on the way to their room. The wolves were with her and were perhaps the only reason she did not yell each time she thought she saw Ramsay's figure. She had hoped Robb would come to her side, despite her fear and twitching at the slightest sound her tiredness took over and she eventually fell into a restless sleep, feeling warm with the wolves around her.

He nuzzled the back of her neck and wrapped his arms around her body, Robb's lips and his smell and grip were familiar, ease came quickly with him near. Followed by tales of their days and by the end of Myra's stories Robb had gone through several moments of turmoil "I never thought I'd be grateful for the Kingslayer…" his warm tired voice mumbled in her ear, his hands protectively held her bloated stomach as he nuzzled the nape of her neck once more. Inhaling deeply, his breath fluttered comfortingly over her skin as he spoke "I'd lose everything if I lost you…" his left leg entwined with hers as though he could not pull her close enough "My little dragon…"

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Early the next morning Robb went to check on the state of the Bolton bastard, Theon, his siblings and the affairs of Winterfell and the rest of the North... He did all of that and more while Myra walked, with Silver at her heels, towards a door leading to a room that she hoped would still be occupied.

As such she could not help but be filled with disappointment, when there was no response to her knock and she opened the door to find the room empty.

"Couldn't wait to see me there, Birdy?" A smug voice from behind her caused Myra to jump and turn.

"I just did not know if…" She began as her violet gaze ran over Jaime's battered form leaning against the doorway to make sure that he was truly present.

"I'd keep my promise and stay?" he finished for her.

"More than a pretty beaten face, aren't you Jim?" Myra smiled.

"On my good days…"

"That explains the rare displays of wits" she stated with a serious face, they held the silence for a moment, before they began sniggering. Silver's violet eyes looked between the pair, filled with interest.

He gestured over his left shoulder down the hall "Walk?"

She nodded, still finding it strange to see him at his normal height as opposed imprisoned on the ground "Your height takes some getting used to…" Myra noticed something to his right-side glint in the light as they began their walk with Silver trailing them "So does your hand…"

"Your being with child takes some getting used to as well…"

Myra's brow creased "You noticed? Why did you not say anything last night?"

"It did not seem to be pressing in light of all that was happening... And how could I not notice? You have a stronger grip than most would think Birdy. I believe some of my ribs were bruised." He faked a wince as he rubbed his side.

"Just filled with words now aren't you?" she retorted.

"It comes and goes. As you should be well aware…"

"Yes, well keep it up I may be tempted to test my strength on you again…"

He chuckled as they turned a corner "It is good to talk to someone with life again… the Lady Stark and my recently related 'sister Lannister' left much to be desired… that Brienne is an awful bore…" he added after a spell of silence, his distracted green gaze became curious.

Compelling Myra to ask, "What is it?"

"Nothing" he responded quickly though his last thought lingered in his expression "How would you like to hear about my hand?" Jaime changed the subject.

Reluctant to have him address grim topics when he did not have to, Myra began to interrupt. "Jaime, we've talked about so much…"

"Yes, now let me tell you about my hand" he forced. "It's a very good story…" The glint in his green eyes caused Myra remember the joy and excitement he had shown when retelling his battle tales and she relented, nodding with a sigh as they descended the stairs to the courtyard. "I do love an enthusiastic listener" he remarked acerbically at her weary expression "… In any case Brienne and I had gotten into a bit of spat…" he sniffed off to his side for a moment clearly sporting something of a wounded ego.

A thought clicked in Myra's head and she could not stop a wide smile from spreading across her face as she realized why he was sore about this part of the story "She kicked you all across the Kingdoms did she not?" Myra scoffed as they reach the mud of the courtyard, she tugged on Jaime's sleeve while he continued to avoid looking at her "She did, didn't she?" Myra added excitedly "Come along you wanted to tell this story!" He only responded with a sneeze "I knew it!" she clapped her hands together.

"Oh come off it dragon…" he muttered bitterly.

"There is no shame in it Jim. She is a wonderful fighter and teacher" Myra's happy tone diminished, as she remembered her days training at Riverrun, "though her student is nothing to be proud of…" Myra glanced to her side and for a flash saw Ramsay fleshy face staring at her. She shivered knowing that it was her mind, but still unable to shake the fear that at any corner she turned, or any place she looked, he could really materialize.

Jaime caught her shiver and the fear in her appraisal of their surroundings "You did well Birdy, for your experience… he is locked away now…"

"Because of you" Myra smiled weakly at his attempt to console her.

"Yes well, I did not say you did perfectly…" he spoke with a grin.

"We cannot all be Lannisters can we?"

"No, we'd be dirt poor if everyone was…"

"And golden limbs cost small fortunes no doubt."

"They do… Though I think that Vargo Hoat, the sellsword, had bet a severed limb would be worth more when he took mine …" Jaime sighed, seeming to pity this Vargo Hoat's logic, or lack thereof. "Hoat thought that my father would not be able to pay him, considering Father Lannister's imprisonment at Casterly Rock. And so, after stumbling upon Brienne and I, Hoat switched allegiance to your precious Young Wolf. The lisping bastard had been promised Harrenhal by Roose Bolton, who had taken temporary hold of the place. I suppose Bolton took care of me and scolded Hoat, who apparently had not known of my appointed task at the time. Bolton… thinking of his future by appeasing my family… you would have been proud Birdy" Jaime smirked at Myra who raised her eyebrows in anticipation "I managed to threaten Maester at Harrenhal into taking only my hand and not the whole arm even through my infection and fever. And I managed to keep my tongue working even with the pain of a rotting arm…"

Myra had hissed as though she felt the pain that he had suffered "Jaime, that's…"

"… Not all. Afterwards Brienne and I travelled South, with Bolton's blessing, in search of the Stark girls. My sister had heard of my state and had this" he raised his golden hand for Myra to see "waiting for me… the smallfolk were starving but she made sure to replace my hand with gold" Jaime shook his blonde head "She did not understand when I left again, she did not understand why Brienne brought me back to my fighting self, she no longer understood me. To be honest I no longer understood her… and her cheating ways…"

It took Myra a moment to gather up this story, it had taken so many twists and turns, it had certainly ended up in a very different place than it had begun, and it seemed to have gone in a different direction in the telling than even Jaime had intended. Clearly they did not require confinement and the dark to speak and tell stories as they had in his cell.

Myra was at first struck with the same disgust she felt upon initially hearing of Jaime's relationship with his sister, but then was reminded of the love and faithfulness with which he had spoken of his relationship with her… it was as real as the pain he was attempting to hide at the moment. As real as the pain Myra would feel if Robb did to her, what Lady Cersei had done to Jaime.

"I'm so sorry Jaime." He stopped, halting their stride and looking at her directly in the eye. Something in his gaze softened and Myra knew that he recognized her sincerity.

"It…" he began then raised his left hand as he continued in their walk, he looked at his left palm "…'unhappiness in an earlier relationship' remember Birdy?"

Myra nodded "and 'a successful and happy marriage'" she pointed to the end of a line on his raised palm "eventually… I suppose you've decided to leave the White Cloaks…" Myra remarked, as she thought of him fulfilling the marriage prediction and dealing with the awkwardness of his sister's company if he chose to remain in the Southern capital.

"Yes, though I must say I will disappoint you if you think I left for the prospect of marriage…"

"King's Landing must hold many sad memories for you…" Myra suddenly wanted to smack herself, Cersei was not the only person of Jaime's blood in the capital, his children were there… one was dead, and though the Southern King may have been a monster, he had been Jaime's son "I am sorry about you neph… son." Myra decided to stay with the truth considering all that Jaime had revealed.

Jaime scoffed "that little beast no more my son than the rest of Cersei children… they may have had my blood but they were not mine. When I have children I will be able to hold them when they are born, no one will keep me from them or tell me it will raise suspicion if I show them affection…" as Jaime spoke his green gaze was stuck on Brienne, who had recently entered the space of the courtyard. His focus did not escape Myra's notice.

"What happened between you and Brienne?"

"You mean other than that incessant ass kicking?" Jaime asked, looking down towards Myra once again. "Nothing… I lost my hand not my sight…"

"And I am pregnant not blind… I always thought Brienne was pretty, she grew beautiful the more I knew her and breathtaking when I saw her fight…"

"Oh Birdy… I believe you may be in love…"

"Perhaps… but I do not think I am the only one."

"I do not doubt that Brienne reciprocates your feelings" Jaime commented, pretending at being oblivious.

"Perhaps this is not as a 'good day' for you as we supposed…"

More people had entered the courtyard, the children from the various houses and Winterfell also began milling around "Perhaps…" Jaime sneered with some disgust at the amount of children in space "how many children have you need of to practice mothering on?"

"You can…" Myra had begun to snidely retort, when she saw two particular faces rushing towards her.

"Myra!" Rickon and Maldric squealed in unison, running into her legs. Shaggydog sat some small distance back and black as ever, with his green eyes watchful of all happenings around Rickon.

"Hello Mal. Hello Little Pup." She greeted them respectively, as Jaime stood by watching with some veiled curiosity.

"Look at what we found!" Maldric held up a frog that he had clasped between his hands. "Can I keep him. Rickon and Bran have wolves. You all do. I can have him…"

"Him?" Myra asked, amused.

Maldric nodded furiously, his grey eyes staring hopefully up at her. Myra smiled warmly at his excitement "I do not see why not. But you must take care of him… and give him a name."

"Can I call him Al, after Uncle Aldric?"

"You can call him whatever you like." Myra smiled, her gaze shifted to Rickon who had been silent for some time. She realized that he was looking up at Jaime as though he was trying to place him.

"I know you?" he questioned Jaime.

"I believe we met when I was here last. You were rather small then…" Jaime spoke as though he were not addressing a child. "And in the Riverlands, though I looked quite different then myself."

"This is Ser Jaime Lannister, Rickon…" Myra offered during the quiet that had followed Jaime's response to the boy. "Jaime you obviously remember Rickon. But you do not know Maldric, heir to Winterfell…"

...and Prince of the North. Myra added in her head not wanting to frighten the boy with the designation just yet.

But the single title alone had caught Jaime off of his guard, he looked with surprise at Maldric "Heir?"

"Yes…" clearly she would have to explain, she turned back to the boys "why don't you both go show Bran your new pet?" They nodded and ran off.

"Bran…" Jaime muttered, drawing back Myra's attention "we are both cripples now…" he spoke regretful under his breath, looking at his new right hand. "Though I have more cause to be…"

"You do" Myra spoke, utterly honest in her tone and violet consideration. Jaime's eyes snapped up to her face.

"Heir?" he spoke changing the subject again, only this time Myra also wished to leave behind the topic that they had no more speak on. "I know that there is little to do in the North, but child after child cannot be good for your health…"

Holding back a scoff Myra explained "He is now a 'Prince' too. Mal is Robb's son, born before we met… we only found out about him a month ago…"

"That explains why we did not hear of the news. Travelling and avoiding detection is no easy task, especially when people are so eager to talk… a new Princeling though would have been interesting at least…" his voice trailed off, while Myra's mind began whirling as she remembered part of the reason she had wanted him to stay so badly.

"Speaking of interesting. I have a question for you…" Myra clenched and unclenched her left hand, though her violet focus remained on Jaime.

"Learned how to be a humble then, Birdy?"

"No more than you…" Myra gestured towards the godswood for a more private place to talk. She cast a friendly smile at Brienne, when she noticed the warrior's clear blue eyes stuck on Jaime and she from across the yard.

"I think you'll find I excel at humility…" he began following her lead to the wood.

"Wonderful Jim, perhaps you can demonstrate once you've deflated your big head…" she murmured. Silver brushed by Myra's legs into the godswood, turning to eye Jaime and Myra from just inside the amber wood.

"I thought we'd developed a rapport" Jaime nodded at the violet-eyed wolf.

"She untrusting for my sake… it seems I am not quick enough to judge…"

"You judged me fast enough as I recall" Jaime commented as they entered the woods. "The late Lord Bolton as well…"

"Maybe, then it is I am far too obvious in my judgments, when caution should be exercised…" she rubbed Silver's head when her wolf began walking at her side.

"Caution is so boring…" he offered in a huff, craning his blonde head to take in this new environment. "Quite empty isn't?" Myra nodded. "Is there a reason your question requires such an empty place or do you still avoid crowds of people?"

She nodded her silver-haired head in response to both parts of his questions, while clenching her left hand again "You served the Taraygens…" Myra half asked.

"You know that I did… Are going ask if the sky is blue next?"

"No. But is water wet?" she mocked his degrading tone. He smiled, nodding for her to continue "I jus… did any of them ever…" each word was painfully slow. She could barely believe what she was about to ask "when they were near fire… did…"

"Fire?" Jaime frowned, thoughts and links seemed to be building in his mind. "Aerys was mad for the stuff… he went on about burning things… burn them… burn the city…" a new, distant tension took over his tall frame "... he was convinced he could survive burning the city, then when he saw the usurpers at the gates…" his voice sounded very faraway.

Myra remembered Jaime's disdain of the Mad King's paranoia, the pain in his ass after stabbing Aerys… The Mad King Aerys, who had apparently wanted to burn down an entire city. Myra's mouth dropped open a little as she realized all at once that Jaime Lannister had single-handedly killed a King to thanklessly save a city filled with innocent lives. He did not say so, he was not even saying it to Myra. He sought glory, he sought honour but his honourable acts had him branded a Kingslayer. Hidden under that Lannister pride, he was …

"…such a stubborn child…" Myra muttered, unable to stop herself she threw her arms around him.

"Again?" disbelief shaded his voice. "What have my ribs ever done to you?"

She laughed partially at his question, mostly with joy "I always knew you were a good man…"

"What did I say to make you think that?" He asked as she pulled away.

"You've said nothing, but you've done more than what you let on…" he frowned at her "…such a prideful child…"

"Not this again, we spoke of this already Birdy around you I am old…"

"Yet you persist in acting like a child…" Myra chortled back.

"Ask your damned question… fire w…" an odd expression came over his face and slowly transformed into something akin to concern "Fire... did you have something happen… or not happen?"

"Not happen… I" she lifted her left hand "stuck this hand in fire accidently and it was completely fine."

Jaime stopped walking causing Myra to stop mid-step "Didn't your beloved wolf pull you out of a fire?"

"I've been thinking about that a lot." As she thought back Myra could nearly feel the beams and fear crushing her still "…And the more I do the more I remember being crushed I have no burns from that night… is this… is this possible?" she asked him.

"Hearsay and myths are all I've heard." His voice became soft as he seemed to search through his memories "Aerys… actually none them had any…" his next word looked to be caught.

"Magic?" she offered. He nodded, as she went on "Do you believe in such things?"

"I had no reason to, but there is your unscarred hand before my eyes." His green eyes shifted to her hand, then back to her face "And there are whispers of the fire worshippers' strength in the South and dragons hatching in the deserts of Essos…"

"Dragons?" Myra frowned "You mean the exiled Taragyen siblings…"

"I mean dragons, Birdy. They may only be rumours … but there is also this unrest I have in me." He sighed, rolling his shoulders as Myra tried to piece together what he was talking about "Some magic has stirred in me… has affected me. I do not want the ghosts of Ayra and Catelyn Stark to haunt me."

"Haunt you?" Myra asked still feeling lost.

"I will be leaving soon to find the girl." Myra opened her mouth to responded, but Jaime cut her off "No doubt your Young Wolf will be relieved to have me out of Winterfell and a Lannister searching for his sister…" his voice was light, but his gaze was firm and clearly unmoving on his position. Seeing that Myra, however begrudgingly, recognized his resolve Jaime continued "…speaking of him, what does the King of Winter have to say about this fire magic that you have?"

Myra felt shame flare in her, she had to look away from him "I have not told him." She carried on walking quietly, unsure of whether she even wanted to speak the words she was about to say out loud "Having more power, more ties to the Taragyens is something..." she stopped, needing a breath to collect her thoughts "... any rights and access this would give me… I truly do not want them."

"Then tell him that…" Jaime offered bluntly, following her steps.

Myra looked back up at him, the kind honesty of his advice was evident. There was nothing to prompt her but she felt the need to ask. "Will you search for your brother as well?"

Jaime nodded "He is on the run from my sister. The poor man will need all the help he can get…"

Myra nodded her look grim as she took in the beauty of the godswood "Bad things have happened."

"Bad things always happen, Birdy."

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**Wrote in an altered (for lack of a better word) state of mind. Will probably edit in a month… Thanks for all of the support!**


	12. Chapter 12: Whole and Centre

**Sorry had a small hiatus. Hope that you are all doing well and that you like this. Gonna go ahead and call 'Blackwater' the episode I could consecutively watch again and again… and one other time too.**

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**Chapter Twelve – Whole and Centre**

"Are you well Brienne?" Myra asked in greeting as she walked after parting ways with Jaime in the courtyard, Silver made her way to lay in the shade of one of the tables lining the enclosure. Myra grinned knowingly as she made her way towards the towering woman. Brienne's beautiful blue eyes had remained stuck on the form of Jaime Lannister as he made his way to Myrcella and his Lannister kin across the yard.

"Hello your grace," Brienne spoke, letting her eyes glide to Myra. "I hope all is well."

"As well as it can be Brienne. And please call me Myra…" the silver-haired girl rubbed her swollen bell. "I… feel I should apologize for how poor a student I…"

"Oh no my lady…" she gave Myra a smile showing her crooked teeth, for the first time Myra noticed that some of her teeth were missing from the blue knight's beautiful smile. Just as Myra was about to inquire about them, Brienne spoke "I'm sure Meera would understand as well, considering your… state." Brienne's gorgeous blue eyes darted to Myra's belly.

Myra sighed contemplatively rubbing the tickling movement she felt in her stomach "Maybe…"

"Isn't it…" Brienne shook her head and looked away "How else are you here?"

Myra laughed lightly at Brienne's attempt to change the subject "'Isn't it' what Brienne?"

Brienne pursed her lips before speaking "I was going to ask if it was painful?"

"Painful?" Myra frowned "No… honestly it's rather odd but I've not really thought about this mass on my stomach, feels no different than having to consider a finger when doing things… just the way I move run and move has changed but it feels so natural and right." Myra looked up to the grey sky watching her breathe fog the air, "Maybe because he is Robb's baby…" what she knew to be Grey Wind's familiar frame pressed against her side, she ran her fingers through his pelt "…anyone else would be…"

"Wrong." Brienne offered.

"Different" Myra had said at the same time. Her violet gaze went up to Brienne, whose focus was across the yard again "Wrong is exactly the word" Myra grinned as she followed Brienne's line of sight. She wanted ask Brienne about her time South with Jaime when, "Oof..." Myra felt a jab in her belly.

"What is it my lady?" Brienne voice filled with concern as she moved closer to Myra.

"Nothing, he's just moving around a lot" the concern on Brienne face did not shift "Here" Myra pulled one of Brienne's hands over the dancing part of her stomach.

At the kicks Brienne eyes widened "Doesn't that hurt?"

"No. I have three more months to get through, but right now I just feel so whole…"

Brienne opened her mouth to speak, but an approaching voice interrupted "Right side better than my sister, she was the size of an angry whale, sh…" Grey Wind's snarling had caused Jaime to stop in his speech and step. Suddenly it seemed more apparent that the children had left the area. "Now this one will never change… I'll just keep my distance shall I?" he acknowledged then dismissively waved off Grey Wind's threat, turning his face to the women.

Myra could sense him before he even spoke, "You'll do more than that Kingslayer." Robb voice broke into the scene.

* * *

Robb had left her that morning. Each time he left her side he hated unwinding himself from her warmth. Especially as it had been so long since he had spent any real time with her, before she had woken up he had a chance to speak to her stomach for a few minutes. She had grown, not much, but it made him sad to know that he had missed it… he had missed so much, he had missed protecting her…them again. That was enough to force Robb up and out to confront the Bolton's Snow.

In the lowest, dampest cell in Winterfell a shackled Ramsay Snow had greeted Robb with a smile and growled at Grey Wind. Robb had not wanted to mince words with such a man, something about him reminded the grey-eyed King of a bloodier version of the duplicitous Roose Bolton. Robb asked simply what his reasons were and intent was for breaking into the fortress…alone and clearly without allies.

"Theon Greyjoy, my sweet Reek is a particular pet of mine…" Ramsay had seemed sharp in the dim light. "The rat squirmed away before I could finish the masterpiece I had in mind for him…"

Robb wanted to recoil at the mindless bloodlust oozing out of pale this man "I saw what you did to him and others. What reason could you possibly have…?"

"Reason? Hmmm… I suppose he betrayed my King." Ramsay shrugged.

"You betrayed your own King."

"You are not my King, Lord Stark."

"Stannis?"

"Whoever sits on the Iron Throne. I could care less about the name."

Robb had enough of listening to what was clearly a deranged man, even being in the same vicinity of Ramsay Snow was making his skin crawl "I'll leave you in your loyalty's company then…" Robb turned to leave the grotesquely fleshy man.

"I wonder if she smells that way to every man…" Grey Wind had gone from following Robb to snarling in Ramsay's face, before Robb could even gesture for his wolf to do so. "Though my nose is seasoned in hunting lovely young things… shame she scurried off before I could…" Robb had moved slowly his stormy grey gaze burrowing into Ramsay dark one as he approached the man. Calmly and unhurriedly Robb put his right foot on Ramsay's left ankle, gradually shifting all of his weight and then some on to that foot. Ramsay gritted his teeth at first, but Robb silently continued pressing, his grey stare unwavering. He had felt something shift under the sole of his foot, something like bone. He did not move, until he felt more of the Snow's bones slide and crumble. Ramsay had hissed then…"HA… AHHH!"

"You will not have whatever sick satisfaction you get from torture again, Snow." Robb started back to the door, he had heard Ramsay panting and mumbling in the dark behind him "Happy hunting with that…" he had nodded at the ruined ankle and left with Grey Wind.

Robb had taken a few minutes to catch his breath once he had returned to the sunlit passages of the castle. That man in chains had made him sick, and Myra had... she had been alone with that monster. Robb had wanted to beat his own head against the wall, just as Maldric, Rickon and Shaggydog ran towards him.

"Poppa look!" Mal had held up a slimy looking toad.

"Where did that come from?"

"His name is Aldric" Rickon had spoken up. "Sansa said his colour was nice…" before Robb could address the issue of their sister Mal spoke.

"We found him. Myra said we could keep him…"

"She said Mal could…" Rickon corrected. "We were going to show Bran but he wasn't in his room."

"What about me?" Robb had teased grinning at their confused expressions "You didn't want to ask me? Show me?" he pretended be offended. In his heart however Robb had felt almost irrationally happy that Maldric had gone to Myra first. He wanted to laugh, but instead had poked the both ticklish boys in their stomachs and playfully chased them for a good stretch of the hall.

Alas the worries of the real world called him, repairs and costs and defenses and trades and yet more troubles from the Wall. And then more…

Robb hadn't spoken to Theon since the first night the traitor had arrived at Winterfell. He had been confined to his room, Robb simply made sure that he was still there and not dead or dying, he had no desire to speak to the Greyjoy.

Grey Wind followed him, standing close by or within earshot at all times as always. He was there as Robb went to see if Bran had returned to his bedchamber. The boy was there in his bed with Summer, docile as ever, at his side. Often Robb wonder if he had taken Grey Wind into battle too many times, he had become huge and rather rough, rougher than Shaggydog had been when Rickon could not control him. He had pensively stroked behind his wolf's ear as he spoke to Bran.

The boy was getting older, his eleventh name-day had passed and Robb had planned for him to learn some of the workings of ruling and lordship. Eventually, he wished for Bran to take legitimate Lordship over the Twins, their Uncle Edmure had already consented... but that would all come later.

"Rickon and Mal came to bother me about a toad, I told them about Myra's pet leech" Bran had stated after he had responded to Robb's teaching request.

Robb snorted at the memory of the strangeness surrounding Myra's odd companion at Riverun "What did you tell them?"

"That she wouldn't kill it. Even after it had used up all of your blood, she didn't want to kill it or keep it so she let it go to leech off of something else…"

"Sounds fairly typical of her…" Robb had shared a laugh with the boy. A silence had followed, Bran seemed to want to say something, so Robb waited patiently.

"I saw Sansa…" Bran appeared to blurt out "When Hodor took me to the library, she was visiting mother and father's tombs… and Lady's too." The brown-haired boy had thumbed the frayed pages of a book that had looked very familiar to Robb "I'm glad she is safe, that she is back, but she is different now. Even how she is quiet has changed…"

"Sansa is…" Robb had paused searching for the right word "altered… but so are you and I. All of us have gone through so much I do not think we could have rightly stayed as we were."

"She looks like mother. For a moment I…" the boy trailed off.

"Me as well" Robb had smiled warmly at his little brother, suddenly recognizing the book in the boy's hands "that's mother's…" he nodded at the well-worn item, walking up to the bed.

Bran nodded "I was curious about what the poets had to say about love and not just war…"

"You are an odd child…" Robb had shaken his head, ruffling Bran's long hair. "You can try, though I doubt the poets would get it right, the war stories interested me." He watched as Bran attempted to flatten his hair back down "Not just the poet's but father and his friends as well…" more and more Robb found his eyes wandering to the clouds outside the window as he thought back to how excitedly and badly he had wanted stories of his own to tell "I never listened when he warned me that real war was not what it was made out to be in ballads and soldiers memories…"

"And love?" Robb eyes were pulled back to his brother, who had lifted the book off his lap slightly.

Robb had mulled over how to answer, he walked towards the window. In the courtyard his gaze immediately went to Myra, who was standing with the Maid of Tarth. Robb did not know what to make of the Lady Brienne, she appeared to owe allegiance to his mother and it was unclear what that meant now that his mother was gone. Even from where he had stood however, Robb could see how distracted the blue knight was by the Lannister standing at the other end of the courtyard.

Robb once again did not have to express his unease, Grey Wind had already left and in a few minutes the great wolf was at Myra's side.

"For me it was not like mother…" Robb had torn his eyes away from his silver-haired wife to look at his brother. "She said loving father took time…"

"Because of Uncle Brandon" Bran filled what he had already known of their family's history.

"Yes, but they built slowly and a very strong, deep love was made" Robb scoffed at his own thoughts "it's strange but when I think of them I think of the strength of Winterfell, perhaps not pretty or grand, but solid and real…"

"It is not like that for you and Myra?"

Robb had licked his teeth, looking up at the ceiling and whistling out a breath before continuing, "For Myra and I… well, me at least" he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth trying to find the words to do what he felt for his violet-eyed girl justice. "When I pulled her out of that burning house, from that very moment, it was as though I ceased to have control over myself… It was not only that she's attractive, but that I wanted to talk to her. And when I spoke to her she became beautiful to me, more than I had already thought her to be. It was as though something had woken in me, almost…

"I can only say, almost magic and it made me feel as though she was the centre of me" Robb inhaled feeling rather like a sap, but he had decided to be as honest as he could be"…it drew me to her. It still draws me to her and grows each day and moment." Robb's gaze had dropped down to meet Bran's face which was twisted in a cross between confusion and doubt. "True it is not mother and father's love. It is not other peoples' love. But it feels real and true and strong and… good. It should make no sense, but it made… makes sense to us. It made sense to me as soon as we met, something inside me said 'go get her…'" Robb grey eyes fell back to the courtyard, where he tracked the Lannister's path to Myra "'…and don't let anything take her away…'"

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**Sorry about editing. Easing back into it. Let me know what you think. And what you thought of the season.**


	13. Chapter 13: Fire Play

**Thanks for the support everyone! Sorry about editing (quite late when I wrote this)…**

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**Chapter Thirteen – Fire Play**

"We have to hold a feast before sending the children to their new homes further North…" the sun had set by the time Robb and Myra had made it back to their fire lit bedchamber. Grey Wind and Silver had appeared intent upon staying beneath the table in the courtyard. There had been some bulky tension hanging between Myra and Robb, since Robb had entered the courtyard earlier in the afternoon. Myra had been experimentally warming her fingers close to the fire when he had started speaking her back was to the bed, she could hear Robb taking off his heavy outerwear behind her.

"New homes?" Myra felt a sudden jab, she had spent time with the Lannister children and hoped to know the Greyjoys. It seemed cruel to move them again, especially when they had grown accustom to one another. She felt Robb sit behind her at the edge of their bed, tugging at her dress and undoing her ties.

"This place is filling up with would be traitors and the like" her dress fell to the floor, "the least we can do is put them outside our walls" she felt Robb's fingers rub the lower part of her back through her light shift, Myra wanted to moan as the pressure that she felt there melted away. What seemed to be the bridge of his nose pressed into her back, she could feel his hot breath and lips on her skin between his fingers.

As much as she wanted to float away and wrap herself around him, Myra could not let go of some of what had been troubling her, as she watch the mesmerizing orange glow of the fire she asked. "Why did you have to talk to him that way?"

"What do you mean?" Robb dug his forehead into her back, before pulling away.

"You know what I mean. Jaime…"

She felt his hands clench against her skin "The Kingslayer…" there was a new hard edge to his sound.

"I thought you were…"

"What? Happy that you defend such a man... What is he to you that you still keep him so near?" Robb's war calloused fingers dropped from her figure.

"Robb" Myra turned to face her husband. When she recognized what expression was under his shaggy black hair and in his steely grey eyes she wanted to laugh at the silliness of it all. "Are you jealous?" Myra could not keep the grin off her face.

"Don't do that, do not laugh at me…" his glare was angry, but the way he was pouting made her smile.

"He is my friend, Robb." Myra moved closer yet, to stand between his legs, "You know I am yours." She reached out to stroke his hair, but Robb childishly pushed her hand away.

"Your friend? Men like Jaime Lannister do not have friends… he takes advantage of your sweetness."

"Please try to hear yourself… I am not completely daft, you sound as though you do not know me," Myra's smile began to fall.

"Do I? Do I know you?" Robb's grey eyes burned as they moved to meet her violet ones.

Myra smile was completely gone now. She felt as though she had fallen through the floor. She wanted so badly to be angry, but she felt hollow and it was difficult to be angry when she felt so utterly empty. "How can you ask that?"

"I-" Robb stopped short, all at once his expression went from anger to confused bafflement "I don't know" suddenly his arms were crushing her as tightly as they could with her swollen belly between their bodies. He dragged her into his lap, almost cradling Myra against himself. "I'm not very smart am I?" Robb's quiet voice muttered through her silver-hair into her ear. Myra remained silent, she wasn't sure if she was more cold or numb. After a moment Robb continued "I met Ramsay Snow today…"

That shook Myra out of her stupor. She shivered, finally feeling the warmth of Robb's arms and letting herself nestle into his safety. Robb's fingers traced the fine mark, visible with the scoop of her shift just above her heart, in the same spot as his more jagged scar.

"I see him…" Myra's soft voice broke the silence. Robb stiffened but waited her to continue, "In my mind, when I walk I see him in the shadows, as though he would appear again like a ghost…"

Robb's grip tightened around her, his nose burrowed into her hair, "He will never come near you again…" he inhaled deeply. Myra could see how a meeting with the Bolton bastard would gift anyone with an overwhelming sense of paranoia. "I just always want to keep you safe, but you were alone... again. And just as I cannot search for my sister myself, it seems that however much I want to protect you myself, I cannot..." He inhaled once again "I think stupid terrifying things. I go insane Myra and lose my footing. I'm so sorry… I just feel that… I know that you're the only one who can see me as I am... not what I want be or could be…"

The way he was speaking was frantic and patched together but it made sense to Myra, as she took a moment before responding "I do as well… I feel as though I am myself with you, Robb. I hate it but it kills me when you…" she faltered pushing her nose into his chest, briefly reliving how empty she had felt just minutes ago "I hate how easily I unravel at the thought of losing you… every part of me is in your hands, everything there is of me…"

"But you still need to tell that man things... things you can't tell me?" the anger had been totally removed, now there was a vein of timid fear in his soft voice.

"I want to tell you. I was going to, I just…" Myra sighed, pulling away to look up at his soft grey gaze. She waited a moment as she looked at him, thinking about how to phrase what she needed to say. Without much reason, other than that she missed him and that his intoxicating scent was consuming her, Myra felt a warm tingling in her legs and her eyes darted to his lips. "I love you so much" she breathed, finding that to be the perfect reason for her draw his face close and mesh her lips against his mouth. She knotted her fingers his dark hair, he groaned pulling her closer, sucking at her tongue. He growled when Myra ripped her mouth away, but went on to trail a line of hot, wet kiss down the column of her neck. She quivered feeling the familiar scruff on his face as he pressed his mouth against her shoulder, tasting her as his teeth gently biting at her collarbone.

Myra panted against his heaving chest, collecting her strength for what she was about to do. She had wanted to go quickly but his iron grip would not let her move. "I'll show you" she brushed her teeth against the vein in at his neck. Begrudgingly he dropped his arms, brushing his nose against her hair before she had stood completely. "I do love you" Myra spoke moving towards the fire. "And I suppose I was frightened, I do not want things to change…"

"Change?" Robb asked, Myra could feel his intense gaze watching her as she held her hand out to the flames. She was slow at first but then…"Myra no!" Robb's fast hands clasped briefly around the fingers she had suddenly thrust into flames. Myra was able move quickly enough that his hand only blackened and scorched a little. But Robb's concern was not for himself, he grabbed at Myra left hand and searched for damage. When he saw there was no burns he lay at least a dozen grateful kisses on her unmarred hand, shock had filled his face by the time his head rose to meet her violet gaze "What does this mean?"

His expression showed that he knew what it meant to be a fire resistant Targyren, clearly he was asking what this meant for her, for them. Without a moment's hesitation Myra replied "Nothing…"

"Nothing?" his grey eyes darted back her smoke darkened hand, still in his worried grasp. The moment he lifted his gaze, perhaps even before, he seemed to understand. A wolfish smile spread across Robb's lips "You want you hide up here in the snow with me my little dragon?"

All at once relieved, Myra grinned "No" she stepped into him, Myra shifted her weight on to her toes, hugging her arms around Robb's neck, "I want to live up here in the snow with you," she nuzzled her nose against his "…my wolf."

* * *

After Jaime and Brienne left, with Myra pestering them into promising to keep in touch, the daily toil of the fortress went on. Myra had needed things to occupy her time, once it had become clear that Winterfell was complete rebuilt, she had become obsessed with healing anyone who needed repair. She had also become quite an expert at avoiding and hiding from Beena, the mid-wife that Maester Lowel had insisted upon having at Winterfell.

In the following weeks Myra was formally introduced to the Northern lords as Queen and the Greyjoy and Lannister children were spilt up. Myrcella had remained at Winterfell and had made a show of knowing and being enthusiastically fond of Sansa. Sansa had been polite and reserved, she was quiet. Often Myra would find herself watching Sansa's manners and ladylike behaviour, feeling less ladylike whenever she did so.

Past Sansa's grace and manner, Myra could see a well of age and life that the girl kept hidden and secret. It was weeks after the many of the children had left, when while on a walk with Silver, Myra came across the red-haired girl in the godswood. Filled with irrational anxiety Myra tried to make conversation, she had even gone so far as to try talking about the weather, when Sansa abruptly spoke.

"It's odd, missing a person isn't it?" Sansa blue eyes were focused on the small pool of water in the middle of the wood.

"I…" Myra thought about what Sansa might be feeling before continuing "yes, it is I suppose. My mother seems gone but here all at the same time…"

Sansa shook her head "I miss my parents, but I am speaking of my husband… two weeks ago he would have had five and twenty name-days."

"Wha-" Myra's brow furrowed, as she recalled the small blonde-headed man who had struck fear into her with one glance.

"I think when I see him again I will kiss him…" Sansa seemed now to be speaking for the sake of sorting out her own feelings.

Myra tried to catch up "You like him?"

"I may still be a maiden and I may have thought him grotesque when I was to marry him. But he saved me and my sanity on more than one occasion. He tried to keep me safe and showed me kindness at risk to himself…" Sansa seemed to mull over some of her thoughts "I've missed him, as I never thought I would… I think I may have started to love him even…"

Unsure of how to react Myra simple rubbed her growing belly, watching as Silver took her seventh rest for the day. "I suppose that's wonderful…" Myra exhaled after short while.

Sansa smiled, nodding her head "I believe it is."

* * *

As the months wore on Silver had taken to hiding in the oddest places. If Myra had thought that Grey Wind had been excessively attentive to her, it was nothing compared to what he was like with Silver. In a strange way it seemed to be for the best that Silver and increasingly Grey Wind found quiet places to reside as they were quickly becoming even more frightening to most of the people in Winterfell.

"What's wrong girl" Myra worriedly stroked her Silver's shiny fur. By this point Myra was the only person Grey Wind did not snap at. Other than Mal and Myra he did not let anyone around himself, let alone Silver. Even Robb was on thin line with his own wolf. Grey Wind still came when he called and allowed him near, but would be more irritable and difficult to control.

Myra had taken to napping with Silver against her throughout the day, as the days wore on they seemed to sleep more and more. It seemed that their behaviour affected their male counterparts as well, if Grey Wind was not being difficult Myra would usually wake with her face cradle against Robb's throat or Robb speaking to her belly. Other times, she would wake with Grey Wind head resting on her leg somehow in the same position as the night she first woke up in Winterfell, with Silver nestled next to her under his huge form.

In this way Myra barely noticed that her seventeenth name-day had passed, two days later her own name-day was the furthest thing from her mind. Myra had forced herself up, determined to be sure that Rickon and Mal were learning even with her increased sleeping absence. Shaggydog was off hunting, Bran was practicing archery with Summer in the courtyard closely and Sansa was showing Myrcella how to perfect needlepoint.

A snarling sound broke out from within the fortress. It took a moment to figure where it was coming from. In an empty hay-filled stable carrel Grey Wind was snarling loudly at anyone who approached. "Calm down" Myra raised her hands, as she neared, he quieted a little and let her pass. Silver looked to be licking a sticky skin off of a white something, a white furry something which began squirming and blindly crawled over to Silver's torso searching for sustenance and warmth.

"Gods!" Myra felt utterly dim, people had suggested, but Silver had not seemed to be getting very big. "I guess you take after me" Myra smiled, maneuvering as best as she could with the inflated belly she now had. Grey Wind snarled at more of the people gathering at the carrel's gate "You definitely take after your man" Myra addressed Grey Wind, before looking up at the crowd "Please, I think they wanted privacy. If you would give us moment." Slowly the crowd dissipated, until only Mal, Rickon, Sansa, Myrcella, Bran and Hodor remained. "I don't suppose you know where Robb is?" They all shook their heads, she was about to ask them to find him, when something nudging out of Silver's rear-end her violet eye.

Myra noticed the dark discharge and the bloody mess under Silver's tail. Myra was glad that Silver's bottom was facing away from the entrance. "What's happening?" she heard Mal's voice ask.

She looked back at the crowd of children. "I think there's another one coming." Her violet gaze went back to her wolf, she wanted to be supportive but could not think of anything else to do besides stroke Silver's head and offer words of encouragement. Myra was impressed and proud of her wolf, it seemed that Silver had this entire stomach churning process under control. Silver cleaned the light grey blind pup herself and lay back.

"What's happening now?" Rickon's voice piped up.

"Nothing little pup." Myra took in the state of Silver, Grey Wind had finally moved away from the gate and moved nuzzle at Silver and the pups. "I think she's done."

* * *

"You know you hum to yourself…" Myra spun around at the sound of Robb's voice. He was leaning in the doorway of their bedchamber. Silver was lying on a blanket on the ground with her pups, Mal had been speaking with them. With one in particular, the light grey one, the female had already opened her green eyes and taken a liking to the boy. Which meant that Mal had been falling asleep more often than not next to the wolves on a blanket of his own, much as was doing at that very moment.

"I do?" Myra smiled widely at him, he walked towards her. She recognized a wreath in one of his hands, but not the thing in the other.

"What is that?" She asked his placed the wreath on her head, swiftly moving to step into dance similar to the one they had in the clearing at Riverrun, only now he hummed the tune. Myra was happy to spin through the room in his arms, looking into his eyes, somehow the way he held her and looked at her made Myra feel less enormous and erased the increasingly gawky nature of her movements.

Eventually he answered "This is" he showed her the round soft reddish item, "is your name-day gift."

"My name-day was a week ago."

He rolled his grey eyes. "Your delayed name-day gift then... it's a peach."

"A peach?"

Robb nodded his shaggy haired head "I loved these as a child, but they rarely make it this far North…"

"And you're giving it to me?"

"You and our daughter," they had stopped moving, though Robb continued to hug her close and held the peach up her mouth.

"How do you know our son will like it?"

"Because our _daughter_…" he paused to make sure it sank in "is my girl." Robb held the reddish food to Myra's mouth, his eyes stuck on her as she took a bite. The tart juice slipped past her lips though she tried not to make a mess it could not be helped. "Umm" Myra sounded her approval of the taste, as he moved the peach away. Myra licked her lips, noticing that Robb mirrored the motion with his own mouth. "That is good, you should try it" She lifted her hand to wipe the juice she felt dribbling down her chin.

Robb grabbed her hand midair, ducking his head down capture her lips and exploring her mouth in a breathless kiss. He pulled away, resting his forehead against hers "Good, but not as good at you alone" Myra was having trouble opening her eyes. She was happy though, she felt on fire as Robb kissed and nipped at her smile.

"I…ow!" Myra's eyes popped open, she crushed Robb's arms between her fingers as she braced herself against him, crumpling in pain. "Ugh! Gods! "

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**Whoa! Right?**

**Also any True Blood fans out there? What did you think of it so far?**


	14. Chapter 14: Ghosts in the Fog

**Hope no one's forgotten where we left off. **

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**Chapter Fourteen – Ghosts in the Fog**

"What is it?" His worried voice broke through above her.

Another unbearable wave of pain hit her. There was a small splat and her legs were suddenly wet. "Agh!" She raised her head to look up at Robb "I think… I think… ah gods!" Myra tried breathing as an almost unbearable pain tore through her.

Excitement grew in his expression, from his grey eyes to his mouth, which curved into a smile "Truly?"

"YES!" another wave of pain hit, he winced as she crushed his arms. Mal stirred on the other side of the bed. "Seven hells!" Myra wanted her mother to stroke her hair and make everything better, take the pain away with her voice, as she had done when Myra hurt herself as a child.

"Mal!" Robb called.

"Poppa?" the boy's concerned voice asked, Myra was having trouble focusing with the pain. "What's wrong with Myra?"

"Your sister is coming. Do you know the mid-wife, um… Beena?"

"Agh!" Myra screamed.

"Could you go her?" Robb carried on asking.

"I'll go…" Mal spoke quickly.

"Good boy." Robb said, turning back to Myra once Mal had left. The violet-eyed girl was still bracing herself against him.

She looked at him again, wanting to slap him for looking so happy. "Stop smiling. I hate you. AHH!" more pain crushed her insides. Myra sobbed when she raised her head to look at him again "I'm sorry…" she cried, not completely understanding what happening to her, there seemed to be a kind of delirium overtaking her "I love you." He looked confused as she pulled him into kiss "I want all of your babies."

"Myra?" He questioned against her mouth.

"Shut up! Shut up!" she gritted her teeth, trying to breathe through the new surge of excruciating pressure. Once it passed, Myra clung to Robb again, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I'm sorry." She kissed his stubble covered cheeks "It just really hurts."

"Here maybe you should lie down?" He suggested. As soon as Myra nodded he raised her off her feet, resting her on their bed. Perhaps it was the position maybe the timing but Myra felt much of the pain pass, by the time Beena arrived Myra was laughing at Robb's amusing commentary.

"Little squirrel's going to run me mad. I know it…" he grinned, his hands clamped around Myra's, his grey eyes focus her violet ones.

Beena began addressing Robb. "You should leave your gr…"

"No." He replied firmly, grasping tightly at Myra's hand, holding her violet gaze "These hens have silly notions" his whispered to Myra, who returned his playful smile. Beena had no time to argue as perhaps a second after the mid-wife had arrived and looked between Myra's legs a crying sound from a tiny dark haired bundle filled the room.

* * *

Myra woke up in the middle of the night not wanting to open her eyes, though this had turned into routine, her breasts would become full of milk and begin to ache and Myra would have to rise to meet an empty bed. She did not have to reach out to know that Robb was not next to her, whenever he left she felt it, even if was during sleep. Myra rolled over grinned against Robb's pillow, inhaling his comforting and simultaneously spine melting smell. She groaned pulling herself up to see an unoccupied cradle in the dim fire light and Silver watching her alone from over the edge of the bed.

"No sleep for you either, girl?" Myra patted Silver's head as she moved towards the door. The pups were growing quickly but they still needed their mother, the white male one had opened his amber eyes the day that the baby was born and had stood watch at the cradle, beside Mal. Meanwhile, the other female grey pup, had started trailing around after the young boy.

Mal had chosen the pup's and the baby's names on the day the baby had been born. "I think Nola…" Mal had seemed to ask for his wolf, while lying on Robb and Myra's bed. When Myra had smiled and nodded in approval, the boy had continued. "That way she and Aldric the toad can get along…" shuffling forward on his knees to look contemplatively at the pink, bundle in Myra's arms. "And… I think…" he had continued, not breaking his stare down at his baby sister "…she should be Abaigael, for me and my mother's friend" his grey eyes had flitted up to Robb, who knelt on the ground at the bedside next to his silver-haired wife "…that way we can be friends too."

Myra had turned her head to look at her dark-haired husband as well. "I leave it to you boys."

"I think…" Robb's gaze had flitted to his daughter for a moment before he finished replying "…that Abaigael is perfect …"

That had been a month ago. In that time Arya's thirteenth and Mal's fifth name-day had passed and this had become the norm… as Myra walked down the hall, towards Mal's open door she could hear a gruff familiar voice murmuring "Oh, oh, oh little Abby…" Myra smiled at what she saw for the doorframe "You love your Poppa, don't you sweet baby girl?" Robb was cradling Abaigael against his chest, he sat on the edge of Mal's bed with Grey Wind and the white male pup as his feet. Mal was fast asleep with Nola resting her grey form against him, and from her place on Mal's bed the female pup was watching Robb as well.

"If you keep her from sleeping much more, she may not…" Myra commented, moving towards her family from the doorway. Robb lifted his grey gaze from his violet-eyed daughter, to smile at his wife.

"After taking such good care of her? I doubt it…" He turned back to the dark-haired bundle in his arms, Robb leaned into Myra side as she stood by him, playing with his dark hair "She was sniffling again…"

Myra raised a disbelieving eyebrow "Really?" She peered down at her peaceful violet-eyed daughter, "She seems to be fine…again."

"Because I came to her rescue…again" Robb cooed at the baby.

Myra shook her head, though in truth seeing him holding their child so lovingly made her insides heat up and melt. She sighed, her chest was beginning ache. Myra did not know how other mothers dealt with the pain that built if she missed a feeding. Forgoing a wet-nurse had made Beena unhappy and Robb uneasy at first, but following an examination insisted upon by Beena, the mid-wife had been baffled by Myra's "positive reaction", as she phrased it, to pregnancy. Ultimately claiming that Myra's youth had to be the reason for the excellent repair of the silver-haired girl's body following Abby's birth.

"Here…" Myra reached for Abby "let me feed her…"

* * *

Abby had gone to sleep as soon as Robb had lay her in her cradle. The violet-eyed child was easily the most calm and unfussy baby Myra could have imagined, she was certainly smaller than she could have imagined any human ever being.

"… It is not as though I can get much sleep as it stands, I worry for Arya and Jon sends more worrying news from the Wall, there are schemers in South and poor Lady Mormont and her daughter must despise me by now for leaving them in Tywin Lannister's company for so long. I… little dragon what are you doing?" Robb taken off his shoes and shirt, moving to lie under the sheets. Myra on the other hand remained standing at the foot of the bed, she had taken off her shoes while she listened to Robb, but she did not stop there.

Breathing as steadily as she could under his burning grey watch Myra let her shift fall from her shoulders to the floor. His eyes became dark as they seemed to drink her in, a familiar heat rushed to Myra's centre. "Five months…" that had been how long it had been since they had been as one together. "That's quite a long… long time…" Myra's own violet stare had caught on the sight of Robb licking his lips. She had tried using her mouth and her hands on him twice before giving up, Myra had argued that he used his very talented mouth and hands on her but each time Robb had adamantly stated that his manhood did not belong anywhere else but the wetness between her legs.

That been enough to make Myra gulp and blush as though she were on fire, and she may well have been. In the last few months of the pregnancy he had been away, then he had not wanted to harm the baby and following Abby's birth he had not wanted to harm Myra. Which had all left Myra rather frustrated, especially when she could feel him and his painfully resisted desire pressing up against her most mornings... and most nights.

"I agree…" Robb exhaled heavily, his eyes fixed on her. Feeling bold Myra climbed onto the bed crawling to hover over top of her husband. Slowly she leaned in to kiss his soft lips and he wrapped his arms around her bare body, his fingers finding their way into her silver hair. She started melting under his warm touch, Myra could feel her body loosening, her muscles relaxing.

Robb let out a low moan from deep down when her own fingers twisted through his shaggy hair. He parted her mouth with his tongue, deepening the kiss as Myra moved to sit over his hips "Too many clothes" she mumbled against his open mouth. Somehow he managed to kick off his pants with Myra still sitting atop him and his mouth still working wonders on hers. Myra hips rocked involuntarily and a soft groan escaped her parted lips when she felt him pressing up against the very core of her.

She could almost feel his heart thumping hard against her own in her chest, as he leaned down, nuzzling into her neck and kissing softly, licking her skin and tasting her flesh. The thrumming of his appreciative hum ran through her trembling body. She pressed her skin against his and could feel the warmth radiating from him. Myra squirmed as she felt the familiar soft dig of his teeth ghost over her shoulder. He seemed to want to take his time but when the waiting became too much, Myra gave his ear a tug with her own bite which worked, as a growl rumbled up from his chest and his teeth bit a mark into her skin.

"Hum… delicious…" his lips tugged against her skin as he lapped his tongue up her neck. Myra had wrapped her arms around him and running her hands softly up and down his back. When his eyes finally met hers again she felt herself turn liquid again. He looked as though he wanted to possess her, consume her, love her in every way imaginable and she was not about to stop him.

But something changed, softening his expression as he looked at her, he leaned forward, kissing her slowly, softly, sweetly. Myra hummed in response, and eased back as he turned them so that he could lie over her. She could feel his fingers, run up and down her, spreading the slick heat between her thighs. "Gods, you're so wet" he gritted into her mouth as she mewled against his attentions. He nibbled at her bottom lips, pulling away to look into her eyes, "I love you more than I say Myra Stark" She hissed, feeling him line himself up at her entrance, he exhaled sharply through his nose the moment her warmth and wetness touched him.

He pushed in slightly, keeping his eyes on her face, watching as she gasped and spoke, "I love you Robb Stark, more than I can even make sense of… I need you…"

"Say it again…"he breathed through his clenched teeth, the pressure clearly mounting, though his darkened grey eyes remained focused on her sincere violet gaze.

"I love you…" Myra lifted her head, to press a soft kiss against his lips "Robb Stark…" she wrapped her legs around his waist, "I need you…" Myra gasped as she pulled all of him into her, the whole time their eyes not leaving one another "…only you…"

Both moaned their ecstasy inside each other's mouths…hearts beating to a swift rhythm in unison. Myra felt herself wrapping around him tighter than she ever imagined possible, squeezing him. But it was as though they fit together perfectly, two pieces of a puzzle, finally connected as though made for one another.

Robb pulled his hips back bit by bit before pushing back into her. A shaky moan rumbled through him, his face lined with the concentration it took for him to move so slowly. "Come here" he breathed "let me taste you…"

He growled his eyes turning almost completely black, as Myra sucked his tongue into her mouth, rolling her hips up to meet his rhythm. The hot coil of pressure that had been building her stomach was pushing her to the brink of her sanity. Myra was not sure how much more she could take when pressed harder and she clenched around him, feeling the most exquisite fullness. Robb groaned as he sunk impossibly deeper into Myra. Robb stilled, his eyes widening with the overwhelming sensation.

"Gods!" He pulled back, before he began to drive himself inside her slipping deeper with each hard forceful thrust of his powerful hips. Myra's mind began to unravel, she felt him explode inside her sucking femininity, as she convulsed into spasms around him. Squinting their eyes shut, both arching and crying out in their passion.

Robb shuddered, collapsing with all his welcome weight upon her, him still throbbing inside her, as they fought for breath. She could barely breathe but reached around as she sensed he was about to pull out. His warm breathed fluttered against her neck, as she spoke into his dark hair "I love you. I've missed you… we are not done…" she felt his smile tug at the skin at the nape of her neck.

"I did not think we were my little dragon" he dragged his teeth across her hot skin as they began again.

* * *

Time seemed to pass quickly in the next three months. Robb and his brother Jon had their twentieth name-days, Myra had continued her work with healing, finding herself talking with Bran over the decline in her own and Rickon's disturbing dreams and the increase in his powerful ones.

More often than not she would have to find ways to stop Robb from stealing Abby and Mal away as much as he ended up doing anyway. If Robb was busy and they had studied enough Rickon and Mal followed Myra and Abby to the kitchens where Myra continued the comforting task of making food and baking bread. More and more Robb seemed to be distracted by news from the North, he told Myra that he barely knew what was happening himself, but more Wildlings were fleeing South and Jon was worried that something was stirring and moving beyond the Wall. "Winter is Coming..." he would huff wearily under his breath.

It had been a day where Robb had some time to spend with the children. Myra had been watching Robb struggling comically with the children hanging off of him, from her seat in the courtyard next to Sansa. When the red-haired girl, who had been trying in vain along with Myrcella to teach Myra needlepoint suddenly gasped and pointed toward the South gate.

"Robb!" Sansa gestured towards a boy with short brown hair and dirty, tattered clothes "That's her! It's Arya!"

* * *

**Hey! Sorry about editing… bleh.**

**Hope all is well. For the name-day thing in the G.R.R. Martin universe the first name-day is the day you're given your name (so if your given name on the day you're born, that is your first name-day). For my story name-days work like birthdays (so your first name-day is like your one year old birthd****ay)… so for the break from canon-ism. ********(Also, for the concerned commenters, Abby was not early...)**


	15. Chapter 15: Here and There

**Hello all! Sorry it has been so long. Hope you've had a wonderful summer. Please forgive me if this is a bit clunky, getting back into the swing of things… still have a plot just writing wasn't coming for a while there. Also you'll be happy to know my editing has not gotten any better… likely worse now actually (sigh)**

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**Chapter Fifteen – Here and There**

Hello Birdy,

I hear congratulations are in order. Here I have had news of your little pup, be warned some think my long hair may have boded well for a cub. That sapphire rock tied to me… I fear I grow used to its weight. As you well know I am susceptible to chirping in a weakened state. The package will arrive, self-delivery is the chosen method of many arrivals it seems…

Yours, Jim

There the letter ended, Myra sighed leaning back against the seat. Silver had her head rested on Myra's knee, patting the wolf's head. The unnamed white male pup had been resting under the table but Abby had started gurgling, causing the pup to whine and tug at the hem of Myra's simple grey dress. Myra had taking to testing her mother's practices for carrying a baby about while doing work. The silver-haired girl remember laughing at the idea that the same cloth that they had used for collecting healing herbs and roots could be used for holding a human, if tied more tightly and securely. As a young girl Myra had tested the theory with fallen branches small enough to fit in the large piece of cloth strapped around her body and as such she had stopped laughing at her mother's notion. The second had amused Myra until she become desperate enough to try it herself. In a weaved basket strong enough to hold a large weight, Myra had laid some folded cloths and created a place for Abby to sleep comfortably.

Though there was always someone willing to run the baby back up to her basinet, Myra did not like being separated from Abby, which was not to say that Myra enjoyed being locked up in her bedroom all day long. The silver-haired girl found herself wishing she could tell her mother that she had been right all along, that she should not have laughed.

Now Myra stood up from Robb's desk, to smile and look over the baby in the basket. Immediately, she missed the warmth of Robb's familiar cloak, she had taken it off her shoulders and spread it over the chair to sit on and to be surrounded by him as well as his smell. Nevertheless, Myra could not keep the smile from her lips as she looked at her daughter, "What is it my love?" she cooed in a silly voice down at the baby, who's pudgy fingers had escaped the blanket she was wrapped in. It was odd for Myra, she wondered if it was the same for Robb.

She had come to love Rickon, Bran, Sansa… Arya as one loves and dies for family. She of course adored Robb beyond anything that she could figure or put into words. But in unique ways she had loved Mal in exactly the same measure that she loved Abaigael, it seemed to Myra that she could not help but feel so intensely for both of them as her children, as Robb's children. And despite loving Mal in such a way, Abby was someone who had come from her. In Maldric's expression and looks Myra saw Robb's so often and found it jarring at times, however it was not quite as jarring as seeing herself in Abby.

It was that strangest of sensations, to see something that had been so connected and dependent on her suddenly alive and a person, smiling and blowing bubbles. Myra found herself dreading the day when Abby would be free to run away from her as Mal did and risk injuring herself. When she thought of Sansa and Arya… Myrcella even, Myra feared for what could happen to uproot her daughter. She wanted to keep near always, she would have kept Mal and the rest of the children near always if only they had no free will of their own, if only they were small babes.

Sansa had looked at the children with longing and spoken of her half-wit and sickly cousin Robin Arryn, who had been in her care while she had been held captive at the Eyrie. The striking red-haired girl had confided to Myra that she would not want such a child. When Myra had teasingly asked what sort of specific children the girl wanted, she had replied that any sort would have suited her good-looking or no she said that she only wished that they would be as good and smart as their father.

"And have a heart and wisdom like their mother…" Myra had smiled and prodded the young woman.

In such confiding matters Arya had been another case altogether. Of all of the Starks, who had lived up to their namesake, Arya had been the most abrupt in displaying how stark she truly was.

"I am Arya Stark." She had stood before Myra in greeting "Do not bother learning my face, it will not stay this way for long…"

At her arrival Rickon had been overjoyed, while Mal had taken to playing at the safety of Myra's skirts, Robb and Bran had been dumbstruck, and Sansa with tears in her eyes had hugged the dirt covered girl. "I had never missed you so badly…" Myra had heard the relieved red-haired girl speak.

"Nor I" Bran had cleared his throat from where he sat.

Arya had been stone faced upon entering the courtyard, but as her family approached her and reminded her of her life at Winterfell, Myra saw something flicked through Arya's blue grey eyes. In the single second that the small break ran across the brown-haired girl's face Myra knew all she needed to about the child. She recognized Arya's love for her family, she recognized that Arya's love was not enough to make her stay in Winterfell, something stronger was pulling her away.

Robb's conversation with Arya was not as successful as his one with Sansa had been. "I have to leave." The short-haired girl had repeated.

And in vain Robb had tried, to the point of speaking loudly enough to draw Myra's ears as she was passing a closed door. Myra did her best not to listen, but she heard something about a list and as he wrapped himself around her for sleep that night Myra could not help but ask Robb what had passed between his youngest sister and he to make him so angry.

He had groaned, "I may not be the sharpest of wits but have negotiated with Kings and held myself in conversation with the likes of Tyrion Lannister and yet I could not a get word out of my skinny little sister… at least nothing that she had not wanted me to know…" he grumbled, when Myra had teased that he had very nice wits in her not so humble opinion, "you are one to judge wits?" Robb had joked back, for a moment Myra had felt his lips smile against her skin, before his ill mood returned and he repeated what he had said to Arya as though he was trying to see what else he could say to keep his sister safe. "'You may not have affection for me, but I cannot believe you have forgotten Jon so easily… that you would insist on leaving without at least seeing him…'" he scoffed at his own words.

Two mornings later the brown-haired girl had left, though Robb had taken to having her door guarded and appealing to the girl's sympathy, she had still left without a word in the middle of the night. Sansa took to consoling Rickon, it seemed that Bran had seen what Myra had on that day that Arya had arrived again in Winterfell, he did not seem so surprised at the girl's slipping out in the night, though that did not seem to keep him from being hurt. Myra had to make sure Robb did not kill the guard, she reminded her husband of how the girl had escaped Jamie and Brienne, of what he had said Sansa had described to him about their sister… Arya would have left in any way she could, nothing could have changed that.

Robb nonetheless, took his sister's flight as opportunity to 'visit' his sickly cousin at the border of the Riverlands to ask that they continue there efforts in searching for Arya. She knew Robb ulterior motive was to figure out the nature of the man known as Little Finger, who was Robin's step-father and had overtaken the Eyrie. For hiding Sansa and for the other crimes Sansa had told Robb of, Myra knew that he want to kill the man. He had expressed his regrets and anger to Myra on many a night, ultimately deciding that meeting the 'bastard' and letting him know that the North was not to be trifled with was enough. It had pained Myra to know how badly hurt Robb was by all that had split apart her family.

In all of this time it had also occurred to Robb to meet with Edmure and check on the Mormont forces and women at Casterly Rock. If the constant worry from the Wall and the reported rise of dragons in the far East were not enough, the Iron Throne had too sent word, having heard of Arya's arrival and sudden departure from Winterfell. To this Robb, however, had pointed out that it was not Jaime who had delivered Arya and that the situation involving Tywin Lannister was now further complicated. The Greyjoy fleets had been raiding the Westerlands in the South and with their captain unable to move while in Stark captivity, the Lannisters were stuck in terms of negotiating.

With so many factors in play, Myra understood what Robb was doing and what the bittersweet taste of Arya's arrival had meant for the state of the North. In a certain way having Ayra arrive without Jaime's aid meant that Tywin Lannister could be kept at bay. Even with the raiding the Lannister were rich beyond reason "there is little people would not do for a rich man…" Robb had muttered as they walked through the snowy woods a short ride away from Winterfell. Given what Myra had heard of Tywin Lannister she was sure that even without the added benefit of coin the Lannister forces under such a man would be a formidable enemy, Robb could sit more comfortably with the assurance of Tywin's tied hands. That was the factor that he most needed to focus on.

"A single game at a time" Myra had agreed with her grey-eyed husband. Feeling lifted with pride at his shrewdness. Pragmatically Robb had to deal with threats that were most present before trying to tackle the heftier and more fantastical elements brewing in the North and East. 'Not only Robb…' Myra hoped that her violet gaze up towards his concerned face as they had walked would have drawn his attention, but it had not. She took his hand in hers, the committing feel of his war worn grip to her memory, feeling the burn of every time he had split his knuckles and suffered injuries, as though they were her own. Leaning her silver-haired against his shoulder as they strode, she had felt his nose nuzzle against her hair and heard the familiar sound of his inhale.

Two months after his nineteenth name-day Myra found Robb leaving for the South again. She had been preparing gifts for Uncle Edmure's and Aunt Roslin recently born Tully heir, she had asked the Rickon if he wanted her to pack anything for their Uncle, and made sure that Bran had his trinkets for the Reed siblings ready in time. She herself had made sure that Robb would take along arrow that she had designed for Hoster Tully, in return for the dagger he had given her. Though the old Lord Tully was no longer in this world, Myra had attached her hopes that the arrow would become a family keepsake, as much as she had planned on making the dagger one for her own… While Myra had known that he would have to leave, once the actual day of his departure drew nearer she found tears inexplicably filling her eyes, she felt panic filling her heart and she wanted to wrap her legs around him until he was buried inside her and could never be away from her.

When she felt herself become angry at him or sad about him leaving Myra tried to remind herself that it was his duty… it did not always work well. "I don't want you to go…" she had mumbled as he had pulled the ties off of her dress before bed. He had asked why, with a chuckle, he was behind her unable to see the seriousness of her expression, but she had a feeling that he had sensed it and was trying to lighten the mood "You're always leaving me…" Myra had pulled his hands so his arms knotted around her body. He had silenced her, as she traced the scar over his heart, the mark in his arm that still ached when he became cold.

He had pressed his bite into her shoulder and had been with her again, then again, then again... Providing Myra with legitimate reasons for her having to stay at Winterfell… for why she could not go with him, matters of state fell to her and Bran, not to mention Abby still required her. She knew he did not want to leave, Robb would have stayed if could have but as it was he promised to write, to stay alive and he tried to quell her fears of her nightmares returning…

It had not worked, the first night after his leaving, the red eyes and sliver flames had returned, her whimpering had only been calmed when she lay a sleeping Abby next to her in her bed. Without Robb's grey watch she felt more exposed, though Ramsay Snow had been executed Myra feared what she may run into around any dark corner.

It seemed others at Winterfell had also become weary as to what they may find lurking about the walls and halls of the great fortress. Myra had forgotten how quickly direwolves grew, with so many roaming around Winterfell already Myra often caught herself wondering how much more space Grey Wind would take up once Robb returned to her. In the seven months since they had been born Nula and her brother had taken to hunting around Winterfell. Both were lean and strong, though Nula was small she was more of an attacker than her brother. The white male preferred to lie in wait while hunting otherwise staying inside by Abby and his mother.

It seemed rather ridiculous that more wolves had been born and somehow that they had bonded with Mal and Abby, but Myra not help but be warmed by the idea that her children would have a companion and friend like Silver had been to her in their lives. Myra had watched her violet-eyed wolf for more signs of future pups but all in vain.

"I suppose it is just me for me now isn't it, girl?" Myra rubbed Silver's soft shiny pelt. Both she and her wolf had not fared well in the absence of their partners.

Without Robb or any of her few true friends it became utterly clear to Myra how alone and truly unfit she was as a queen, let alone a leader.

The precise reasons that she had wanted to stay as far from ruling and power as she was what she currently found herself faced with.

She actually enjoyed checking and working on the accounts which were generally a straightforward affair. Making difficult decisions was not her strength, nothing was easy or black and white, even the honourable course was rife with guilt and anxiety. The Maester Lowel often spoke of how the lords and ladies of the North liked her and how she was a favourite among the people of the Winter. When the lords and ladies sent gifts to Winterfell to celebrate Abby's birth, Myra had taken it as the great houses living up to the formalities of court. She did not know how she would face them in person. In the North births were not truly celebrated until the child's first nameday, it was rather grim but the fact was that a child needed to survive a whole year in order to be hailed a descendant of any house, high or low born.

Myra felt nervous for that approaching date, she had wanted to go to each of the houses and apologize… their sons and daughters were dead or ruined because of her selfish marriage. She thought of the Stark motherless children... The Red Wedding haunted the violet-eyed girl always. A flash of red hair and a screaming Bran ran through Myra head in spite of Maester Lowel insisted "you may feel guilty your grace, but you are as popular as King Robb. If I may be so bold?" Maester Lowel asked for permission, when Myra nodded he continued "His grace fights fiercely in the thick of battle with his men, he is honourable, thinking of his people and not simple glory and he understands the North… "

The Maester went on further "You also understand the North, kept others safe, you have kept your husband safe, led when he was unable to, showed kindness with young Mal, and when you spoke and cooked with the small folk, asked for their advice and though you yourself responsible for however many deaths you have healed the men who have returned to their ladies and children with stories of a Queen who is far from undeserving of a crown… The only contentious point would be…" He coughed, Myra did not need him to finish she knew.

"My friendship with Jaime Lannister…"

Maester Lowel coughed again "such idle gossip is not to be bought…"

Myra sighed, "it is sold in any case…"

Now as she made silly faces down at her daughter Myra shook the fearful thoughts from her mind. "What is wrong my babe?" Myra smiled as Abby squealed happily reaching for the stray strands of silver hair that fell into the basket. "You cannot be hungry again… I just fed you… Didn't I?" she nuzzled her daughters belly with a laugh "Didn't I?" She pulled back playing with Abby's grabbing fingers, "I'm sorry I haven't been paying much attention… crazy old Jamie's letter took longer than I thought it would…" Myra huffed, speaking to her infant child as though she could fully comprehend her.

Jamie had sent a formal letter to Myra about a day after Robb's leaving, it had basically stated that Myra should look in the area where he had told her of her kin. Following a fair amount of consideration Myra made her way to where she and Jaime had spoken of dragons and Targaryens in the godswood. With some digging around and some helpful sniffing by Silver, Myra discovered a weathered piece of folded paper under a fallen log awaiting her. It was a coded ledger of squiggles, that could easily have been taken as doodles but which were in reality meant to symbolize letters as well as a series of words which were meant to be substituted for other words.

Accompanying this key were Jaime's explicit instructions, and his explanations less of propriety and more of caution as he credited Brienne with the drawn portions of the key. He had written that he would write as Iyo on the understanding that he meant Jim. Sure enough a letter that looked as though it had been through all seven hells and back had arrived long after Arya had arrived and left, and months after Robb's departure. Despite the fact it was so late Myra liked hearing from Jaime, something about how he had coded his writing with extra metaphors and symbols though he had used a key reminded Myra of his uniquely 'Jaime' essence. She could see her familiar preposterously, yet somehow frighteningly practical friend in a midst all of the intrigue he was insisting upon. She grinned to herself, knowing her green-eyed friend could never openly admit to enjoying Brienne's company.

Abby gurgled drawing Myra's focus back. Robb had spoiled the child for attention, not that Myra had been much better…

"Do you miss your Popa?" Myra asked her baby daughter, who simply cocked her head up at her mother "I do too…" she sighed in reply to the much loved bundle's expression. "Let me reply to our great Ser Jim…" Myra relaxed back into her seat "then we will find your brother and uncles, perhaps you can help your aunt and I get their hair cut." She added with a weary sigh, as her violet gaze turned to the pages before her.

Myra felt a pull at her stomach "I should…" she shook her head, rubbing her belly. Four months ago when Grey Wind had started lying over her again, Myra had figured that she should have known… she sighed leaning forward to begin her reply to Jaime, to be sent to a 'trusted' trade post in Essos care of Iyo. As she wrote Myra convinced herself that there was no point in worrying Robb, no point in calling him back so early if it meant that he would have to leave again.

It seemed that once again her body had taken well to her condition… no one but she, Grey Wind and Silver seemed to have noticed the slight bulge that had been slowly but steadily growing at her stomach, beneath Robb's cloak for the past four and a half months.

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**Hope this is all right for the time being. School's starting up again school…**


	16. Chapter 16: Howl

**Happy New Year! Sorry, writer's block is pretty annoying. Am trying, promise. Gonna be splitting up the existing story soon, 'cause this is getting pretty lengthy. Sorry about the editing :S**

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**Chapter Sixteen – Howl**

She could smell him, sense him, feel him before his voice even trickled through the heated channels of her mind. He had soothed her with his presence alone. At first it had felt so real she was sure that it was a dream, one of the cruel tricks her mind would play on her every lonely night. Myra had woken up some nights drenched in terrified sweat other nights she would wake drenched in a different sweat, her hands pushed between her legs, her breast aching for her husband's caress. The child in her belly had only increased her lustfulness to be full, not like her first pregnancy. Without him often she woke up in such a bothered state it very clear that it was not her own touch that she wanted. Her fingers were not his, her sounds, her scent were all nothing without him. But things were different now, there was a no more than pure desire to be whole… she was just hungry to be full again.

Myra heard Abby babble, she heard the removal of clothing and cooing but she didn't open her eyes, she did not want to tempt her dream to end. The peace that he brought to her soul was made whole as soon as he opened his mouth "Little dragon" he had tried saying from the edge of the bed in the dimly fire lit room, his finger had barely ghosted over her silver hair before she had darted up. She did not look at him properly, all hands and lips, her eyes could fool her but touches were real. Tearing at his shirt, pulling off his pants with her feet, she knew was a frantic mess but she could not make herself care. She hungered for his weight on top of her, him inside her. Panting and heaving he was kneeling behind her, her hands reached back to bury themselves in his dark hair, she pulled and pushed trying get his mouth as near to her burning flesh as possible.

She felt a low hot gush of want rush between her legs, wetting her at the sound of his growl, he pushed himself in, where he belonged. Myra violet eyes fluttered shut, her skin shivered under his hot breath and soft lips against her neck, one of his hands moved to where they were connected, she felt his strong arm cross over her sensitive chest to reach and tug at the hair at the base of her neck, causing her head to crane back. Their mouths met meshing together mindlessly, tongues demanding, groaning and wanting. She felt him hit deep and hard against her, fast and rough and unsympathetic slamming into her like she wanted him to. Exploding around pulling him in further, wanting him to stay forever, no amount was ever close enough, she felt herself suck at him as his spilled into her. Shuddering and roaring, biting he held her back against his chest, his forehead falling against her shoulder. Her mouth found his again, messily slanting over his open lips, somehow they tumbled on to the bed in tangle of limbs.

"You must never leave me again" Myra spoke in between hard, smoldering kisses to his mouth. "Robb…Don't…" her voice was strained with desperation. He tried to lifted his head, but she pressed her forehead against his, willing him to lay back down under the force of her breathless kisses. "Just- just don't leave…"she relaxed her body atop him, as though she were trying to weigh him down.

"Never, my little dragon…" he answered her frenzied pleas, calmly returning every kiss, soothing his calloused fingers down her smooth back and soft sides, travelling to run circles over the now flat expanse of her stomach. "Never…"

* * *

"All right Bran!" Myra called down the wooded road "GO!" In the distance there was a clattering of hooves and the swishes then thwacks of arrows hitting the various makeshift cloth targets she placed along the roadside. It had been a particularly and unusually sunny afternoon, that had allowed for such an easy outing.

"You shoot as well as the Dothraki…" Myra grinned trying to pry an arrow out of the bark of a tree "Well done Bran." Her expression showing how impressed she was by the power in his shooting.

"Not quite, I missed" his voice dipped as he nodded his brown head at the tree trunks where his arrows had missed the cloth targets. The silver-haired woman had missed speaking with the boy, he had taken to keeping as silent as he could and using words as sparsely as he could when others were present due to the fact the his voice seemed to be cracking in a way that he had found embarrassing. When she had first heard it Myra had, much to her own disgust, spurted out a burst of surprised laughter. Afterwards she had apologized and told Bran that he should not be so embarrassed by the change, but the damage was done. Myra had never been around such an occurrence, even Sansa who had Robb and Jon as elder examples did not help the boy overcome his issues with his voice. Eventually, Maester Lowel spoke with him and was able to ease Bran back into conversing, albeit guardedly, with his family. The entire episode had made Myra all the more homesick for her Robb.

"It all takes practice," Myra tsked up at the boy, who was still mounted on his horse. Egan was waiting for Myra at the start point of Bran's course. "Look there!" she pointed to a tree further back up the road "you hit some. Soon enough your aim will match your strength."

"My strength… what good is strength if I fail to apply it?"

Myra's violet eyes slid over the growing boy's contemplative expression, the issue of ruling had been weighing on him as heavily as it had been on her "Perhaps with strength it is as much a matter of knowing when it is needed as knowing that you have it. You can be measured by showing restraint when you have power to do as you wish."

"Maybe…"

"Maybe…" she nudged at Bran's modified saddle with a playful smile. "Let's go ask your brother…" Myra felt Grey Wind brush against her side as she walked, pressing his nose to her slightly swollen stomach, when she raised her hand to pet the great wolf, Myra realized that there was nothing there… her wishful mind had tricked her senses. She shook the stab of hot pain out of her gaze and looking up to the boy on his horse she grinned lightly "Rickon is the living example of excellence in self-restraint…"

* * *

Myra had taken to waking up in the middle of the night panting her fear consuming her. Robb was gone every night she had to remind herself that he was not with her, that her dreams were only dreams. Some nights it was a relief to wake up alone, nightmares involving red eyes and flames and death and blood seemed less real. But most nights waking up without Robb there beside her made Myra sad as she thought that she was a fool for thinking she could breathe without him again. At Riverrun at least there were more distractions, with the company, and the small comfort that being South meant she was that much closer to her husband.

The end of the war did not ease her mind, she saw blood and crimson cuts upon cuts, horrible rotting deaths upon red deaths… the North had its dangers but the South was filled with treachery. Myra worried, her nights showed in the dark circles under her eyes and in her twitching anxiety. In the past weeks when Myra had been unable to sleep she would try moving Abby to sleep by her side, however on some nights it was not enough and she found herself wandering to Mal's bedroom along with Abby. Most nights having both her children and the feeling the life growing inside her stomach was enough, but other nights Myra would lightly stroke the bridge of the boy's nose, whispering his name until he responded.

Then, with Abby nestled between them, they would talk. Myra would speak of her memories and he of his, at times they would wake fully out of their tiredness sharing in fits of laughter. She asked about Al the toad and he asked about her leech, he asked about the dreams that Bran had… he would snuggle in close, even on nights when she did not wake him. Despite her continually haggard appearance Myra knew it helped to have him there, her son and daughter together held some sort of focus. Eventually, during one of their hushed talks Myra could no longer resist in finding Mal's opinion on her growing secret. At five months along it was simpler to hide behind a cloak or in her dress, but with Mal she did not want to hide for much longer.

Myra would rather have told Robb first but if she kept on her nightly ritual she would have to tell Mal sooner than later. In the dim fire light of the room, at the mere suggestion of a new sibling, the boy had sprung up, "Will I feel it like Abby?" he asked excitedly, Myra had to explain that she could only feel the movements inside in the beginning and that he would have to wait. Mal said he would try to feel anyway, asking if the baby would a boy or girl as though Myra would know. "Boy…" he had smiled conclusively, before moving to lay back against his pillow.

Myra had scanned the face of the grey-eyed boy "Is that just because you want a younger brother or would it really be a boy?" she questioned jokingly, rubbing Abby's back when the baby whimpered beside her.

"I already have a sister…" Mal had responded, reaching out to rub Abby's back himself when she whined again between them. Myra felt the first truly light moment since Robb had left as she took in the scene in front of her.

"You know Mal. If you have another sister it does not mean you'll love Abby any less or forget her…" Myra's voice had tapered off, as she was speaking her light brow furrowed as she realized the weight of what she saying. Myra knew that it was more than sibling relationships she had been talking about, another sort of bond that was just as important had been under discussion. These thoughts ran through her mind as she patted Mal's back, soothing him to sleep. "You won't hurt her…"

"I know Ma…" he had murmured, already half drooling against his pillow, though what he said kept Myra fully awake, her violet eyes fixed on the sleeping boy.

Ma… Myra did not need a translation, the spring in her heart told what it meant, the smile on her would not leave, she leaned over Abby and kissed Mal's soft hair "Yes, son…"

* * *

She had been humming and half drifting with Silver through the godswood, in her head she could see Robb smiling as he broke in on her horrible singing and dancing… a part of her pressed out a tune in the hopes that she would see his shaggy black haired head and hear his warm laugh… she could always feel the watch of his grey eyes on her but that paled in comparison to the joy and comfort she felt with his actual presence. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a shadow, holding her breath in baseless hope she was disheartened to see it was only Shaggydog's dark form running through the brush. With a sigh Myra drew her hand to rest on Silver's neck as the kept walking, giving Robb's cloak a sniff. It was a strange thing without him Myra was haunted, inept, unsure of how she had ever lived without him near.

Myra stopped on her way towards the weirwood and was nearly put into a different sort of trance by the sound of truly enchanting singing. "I loved a maid as fair as summer with sunlight in her hair…"

Myra knew it to be Sansa, as she veered from her direction to the heart tree and moved towards the glass garden at the very edge of the godswood. Inside the warm glass climate spotting Sansa was something akin to some imagined image from a great romantic ballad or tale. "I loved a maid as red as autumn, with sunset in her hair..." Abby was next to her sitting up next to her nameless white pup on the ground, she and jabbered at her mother when she recognized her. Myra could not help but be amazed proud of Abby's ability to make sounds, sit up by herself and remember objects and people, the point where she was weary of strangers… Sansa had taken very well to caring for Abby, and had happily offered to watch the baby while Myra and Maester Lowel taught Rickon and Mal their letters.

"I loved… ah!" The red-haired girl jolted when she realized that Myra had arrived. Sansa took in a deep breath, smiling at Myra as she pulled away from the blue flowers she had been smelling and picking "You're very quiet… How are the boys?"

"Very well, how is Abby…" Myra giggled at her daughter's excited reaching. It was not easy to be away from Abby, even if it was Sansa taking excellent care of her for an hour or so, a fear similar to the one she felt when Robb went away tore at Myra heart.

* * *

A few days later Bran had been telling her about the volumes of books he had been reading… and though she tried to keep from it he had eventually arrived at the subject of her lineage.

"This explains why we're walking today…" she referred to the outing as walk due to the fact that she was on foot and he was on horseback as they made their way through the rows and rows of northern trees, while somewhere in the distance Summer and Silver were hunting. "Cle…" she stopped suddenly, clutching Bran's knee, leaning a little against the side of his horse before crumbling to the ground. A pain filled her, it was familiar but she knew it was all wrong. "Bran!" she gritted, inhaling sharply through her nose. There were tears in her eyes both from pain and strange empty feeling in gut. Through a blurry haze she could see a red splotch growing against the fabric of her plain blue dress, she shook her silver head "This isn't happening…" she mumbled connecting cold flow of matter between legs with the horrible red stain, despite trying to hold it all in she had to push. At barely five months Myra knew "It's too soon…" she cried. Somewhere Bran's fuzzy voice was calling her.

"Myra" his panicked shrill was nearby, his small hands were gripping her shoulders.

"Bran?" she blinked her violet eyes open. "Bran?" Myra looked over the dirt covered boy who looked as though he were crying.

"You fainted for a few minutes…I…"

Myra mind whirred, as she realized where she was… on the forest ground, with Bran who was now next to Summer and who had to have tumbled off of his horse because… Myra gasped as it hit her. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't cry, she couldn't be anything but numb. Her fingers roaming her stomach, when she raised them to face she saw the blood, she bit her lips, kneading her fingers roughly over her face as she rocked mindlessly back and forth. She made sounds like squeaks nothing made sense. She felt Bran's arms wrap around her neck, it wasn't until her head was pressed against his shoulder and she sensed Silver familiar form behind her that she let out an inhuman wail.

"No…" she had tried to make reality change. Even as she held the far too small red haired baby in her arms she tried. "I can make you wake…" she thought of Robb at the Twins "I've done it before…"

"Myra" Bran had sat listening to her go on as one possessed, unwilling to move, but now the dark was drawing near it was time to return home.

"He must be cold… my handsome boy…" her gaze was still watery, as finally lifted her eyes to acknowledge Bran's presence. Though she was smiling as though she were far away from the pain of what had just happened, the fragile truth in her expression told Bran that she need to pretend a bit longer or else she would break.

He took off his cloak as though to wrap it around the child.

"No!" Myra interjected, shaking her head. Holding the mess of her boy close, almost trying to absorb him back into her body. Shame flushed through her, she had failed, she had done wrong, she had been careless, unworthy, useless. She blinked at the naked bundle in her arms "He should be wrapped in his father's…" she swallowed, her tears washing some of red from her son's thin skin. "He should be wrapped in his father's and burned where my mother was… he won't be a-alone…"

"Myra..." Bran's began to his voice clearly trying to reason.

Her head shot up, her resolve unflinching "No can know."

Bran opened his mouth as if to speak, but she cut him off.

"Please Bran." Her eyes were wide with utter anguish "No one can know."

Slowly he nodded, watching as she did all herself. Even drawing back his horse and helping him up after he promised not to tell, so long as he could come along. Silver had vanished into the forest as soon as they had started moving, while Summer had waited watching Myra as she refused Bran's help. She went pale and drained after losing so much blood… but still she went about walking, building a small pyre and all without her usual shield of Robb's cloak, which she had chosen to wrap around her son. When Bran asked if she was in pain or needed rest she only said that she felt nothing, nothing, nothing. She would repeat it and then forget it, seeming to take for granted how distressing her answers were to the young man.

"Are…"

"Yes. I'm sure." Myra interrupted, sparking two stones together to light the cloth that was torn from skirts and was tied around a fallen branch.

As the flames took hold of the cloth Bran spoke up again. "I wasn't going to ask that." His eyes followed Myra as she looked distractedly at the bundle surrounded by dry logs and kindling. "I was going to ask if you were going to name him…" she stopped suddenly her eyes snapping to his. "It's seems wrong to leave this world without a name…" he looked down at her from his horse.

Her voice was scratch when she spoke. "I can't think of any."

"Perhaps Rian, for 'little king'?" Bran suggested. "From my mother's ballads, it seems fitting."

Biting her lip Myra nodded, her eyes stuck back on her son "Yes, just about" she moved closer, kneeling down, with a final tearful kiss and hesitant release. "Sweet dreams, my dearest Rian" She gasped and let the kindling catch light. As she backed away from the flame Silver had all at once reappeared before Myra. The silver-haired girl collapsed to her knees gripping Silver around the neck without whimpers, without tears… all that Myra could feel in her cold bones was her wolf howl.

* * *

For two weeks Myra had walked utterly dazed, feeling more hollow, more of a failure each day. She did not warrant the warmth of Robb's cloak. She felt she could do nothing, not care for her children or anyone else. She didn't trust herself to hold them, fearful that she might somehow break and ruin them. At the same time she had never wanted Abby and Mal so near, she would often times startle herself out of numbness and run off searching for them if they were not near her. She knew she was not safe, she was horrid and inept. No one. Just some low leech who had muddled her way into a noble family. She was no one, nothing. When she thought of what Robb would say. Would he leave her? Banish her away? That would kill her. It was no else than she deserved, for killing her own son. "Why did this happen?" She would ask the weirwoods, her mother, herself. Though she could fathom that she deserved it, Robb did not.

The thoughts in those weeks were relentless and Bran, being the only one who knew shouldered most of the extra burden. The severe change in her was noticeable and he was having a difficult time keeping his promise to her. He tried to bring her back. Telling of mistakes he had made, his dealings with poor Lady Hornwood and how had failed to heed her warnings about the Bolton bastard. How his role like Myra involved more than oneself. By the second week he switched his tactic.

"That day we went for a walk." He caught Myra's wandering attention. "I wanted to tell you something else… about Jaime Lannister." He waited for her to respond but she simply stared at him blankly. "He came to see me when he was here last, sort of stared at me for a long time, like you are now… he apologized in his arrogant sort of way and do know what I told him?" Bran asked, when she did not answer he went on "I said that I didn't forgive him, but that he was not worth my anger. He could leave and do whatever he want within the law so long as he never had any to do with or say to me ever again…" she continued to stare "you see Myra you've rubbed off me a little. I did not die that day, I have my family, my life in Summer, my life to go on with. Do you see what I mean?"

Myra had nodded, though his plan had not completely worked it had reminded her of the Targaryen lineage they had been on the topic of that day. This was how she found her distraction in the rare, dusty volumes of history at Winterfell.

That was until a week later when Robb came back to her.

* * *

**Hope you like it and everything is going well. Please don't hate me.**

**A. N. Remember splitting it up. Will probably move most of the stuff from Chapter 24 onwards to another story (just overwhelming to see such a large story if that makes sense)**


	17. Chapter 17: Grey Places

**Hi all! Hope it's going well.**

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen – Grey Places**

Myra had eventually dozed off to sleep, her body blanketing her husband's, her head cradled against the familiar scruff of his neck. However, the minute he tried to move away from her she whimpered, waking from the first peaceful slumber she had gotten since he had been gone. "Don't go…" she mumbled into his skin.

"My love, Abby is whining" Myra could sense her silver hair had been piled up over her head as Robb spoke through an intake of breath. Before letting him move out from under her, she took the same liberal inhale as her husband, drinking in the peace that his scent and his being gave her. Immediately she missed him, immediately that horrible hollow emptiness filled her. In the dim fire light Myra could see Robb's naked shaded form walk to Abby's cradle.

"Gods…" he muttered while checking to see if Abby had wet herself. "She really is so big…" Myra could see the infant hold out her little arms, Robb too seemed realize that what his daughter wanted was him "Oh, my little squirrel." He smiled picking her up "Do you remember me?" he grinned, his grey eyes opening in wonder as Abby grabbed at his nose in recognition.

Myra had moved to lay on her stomach at the foot of the bed, watching her husband and daughter. She could not help but smile. She had worried that Abby may have not recognized Robb, but as watched Robb babble to the baby in his arms Myra knew she had been foolish to be concerned at all. As much as she wanted Robb's arms around her, she could not make herself upset, strange as it was she felt warm and whole seeing him holding their child.

"She's strong." He chuckled as Abby gripped the finger that he held out to her.

"And teething" Myra scoffed, getting off the bed and moving to where Robb was standing, arriving just as Abby started chewing on his finger.

"Ow!" he hissed, drawing his hand back. Myra laughed, rubbing gentle circles over Robb's warm back. Abby looked them both, appearing utterly sad at the loss of her chew toy. "Very well. Here, my love" Robb gave back his finger, "have what you like."

"Robb" leaning into him Myra kissed his right shoulder, before looking up at his face "wait 'til you see… What is that!" her musings had been cut short as she realized that there was an almost healed scar cutting just above and into the hair of his left eyebrow.

Pushing him back to sit on the edge of their bed, with Abby still in his arms, Myra berated him and checked him over for missing pieces or more damage. In addition to the eyebrow she found his knuckles split and a raw patch of skin just under his chin "Why didn't you say?" she scolded, standing between his bare legs, huffily shoving his head to the side to look at the scar.

He chuckled, patting Abby's back helping the infant nodded off to sleep again, then moving the same hand to Myra's back. He pulled her closer turning his grey eyes up to gaze at his wife with a wolfish smirk "You didn't really gave me chance little dragon" Myra resisted yelping when she felt him playful pinch her bottom. Drawing her nearer he went on "Besides you did not tell me either." He nodded at the small, dull mark above her own left eyebrow, where she had hit herself when she had fallen on that nightmarish day…

She ignored to urge to dwell on the pain that hit her with the memory, instead Myra shook her head, "Robb, it isn't funny. Mine is nothing. You look as though you could have lost an eye! What happened?"

He jerked away, standing up while somehow keeping a normally easily woken Abby asleep. His fingers hadn't moved, save to drag up and dig into Myra's skin a little more, the bridge of his nose pressed against the crown of her head and his lips brushed against her dull scar. "You're everything" she shivered as he kissed her skin, pulling away he shrugged his broad shoulders, "As for what happened" he spoke with a sigh, his rough fingers still roaming the soft expanse of her skin. "It's rather embarrassing" he shook his shaggy dark haired head, bringing both of his arms up to cradle Abby's sleeping form when the baby nestled against his chest. "You see I fainted." He winced with some wounded humour at Myra.

"Fainted?"

"Like a child." He nodded, his grey gaze now fell to the sleeping girl in his arms. "I don't know what happened… one moment I was myself and the next I was quite literally having the most wretched pain in my gut that I have ever known…" his voice was distant and filled with curiosity "it was as though someone had stuck me with a ragged blade and was twisting it about my insides, and then…" he lifted his eyes to meet Myra's "Smack! Like that. Right off my horse in the middle of a fight with small rebellious outfit of unorganized Freys… I tell you little dragon, I thought that I had been stabbed, but just I fainted before most of my men."

Myra had no idea what to say. For a moment a shard of panic had filled her, she worried that he might have known or guessed at her shame. She wondered if she should mention, she wanted to speak and tell him. But as she looked at his trusting expression she could not make herself. She did not want him to stop looking at her in the special way that he did, she did not want to hurt him or lose him. She was afraid, he was everything, everything, everything.

A light flicker ran through his grey gaze "Speaking of things that we didn't get a chance for…" he moved to place Abby back in her cradle, and went around to the side of the bed where his clothes were still strewn. He picked up a familiar object that made Myra smile.

"My Queen" Robb bowed to her, before moving close to place his wreath on her silver head. She chuckled and thanked him as he wrapped his arms around her waist, enfolding her, flattening her small body against his "I missed you so badly, my Myra." She felt the warmth of his breath on her skin as he spoke softly.

In the burn of his grey focus she could tell what he was thinking about, quickly pressing her ear against the old scar above his heartbeat, she hugged him tightly.

"You are better now?" Myra asked feeling his nose nuzzle at her hair as he grunted a positive response.

"I have you in my arms…"

"Good… don't let me go." She kissed his scared flesh and whispered "Time for sleep."

* * *

Robb hadn't meant to but he had shoved her away, but she would not leave his side. Ordinarily that would be all that he wanted, but over the course of past week it had been like a slow torture.

All he wanted to do when she was near was talk to her, kiss her, touch her, smell her, make more children with her… Maybe he had been too rough, too eager on that first night back. Myra would kiss him but only when he initiated it and only for a short while, when he tried to hold her close she would pull away, when he tried to talk with her she became distracted or answered in short statements.

And all the while she remained at his side, she would be sure always to touch him somehow and always without lust. If not that, she was certain he was almost constantly within her violet eye line.

Every night he would undress and hope that she would do the same and every night he was disappointed. She would stay in her shift and edge all the way to the side of bed furthest away from him. It was horrible. Perhaps he could handle it if she would stay on her side of the bed, but somehow she would end up in his arms her head cradled against his chest or with his face pressed into her neck, her clothes drawn up as high as he could get them in sleep, his skin craving as much contact as he could get with hers.

Tense and stiff without any release Robb tried to be as patient as he could. Clearly something was troubling her. He knew it could not have been the rule of the Kingdom. She and Bran had done well in his absence, tending to the needs of the people and judging on safety measures as they arose.

If only she would talk to him as he wanted to do with her. Heavy matters were weighing on him and he needed her, not only her body but her mind and spirit… just her, his wife. He racked his brain trying to think of what he could have done.

All she seemed to want to do was read the histories of Westeros, she would cart around volumes almost as a measure to be sure that she would have something to keep distant with while in his presence. It did nothing for his nerves that each of the histories seemed focused on the Taragyrens.

The cold grip of fear was on him, he did not need anything taking her away from him. Another family, another life she could be connected to without him terrified and angered Robb. He knew it was selfish, wrong even, but he wanted to be all there was for her because she was all there was for him.

His family, Abby and Mal as well, fell away without her. Everything made less sense. They had been separated by leagues before but nothing felt as far as the gulf growing between them now.

He poured all he could into loving his children, hoping it would spread to warm Myra again. He found himself only becoming more irritated as nothing he did seemed to work. Grey Wind too had grown agitated along with him.

Though Robb could not understand why the direwolf had any reason to be so bristled, the large grey beast had taken his usual and preferred station at Myra's side. And while he had Silver for company Robb had found that he was jealous even of his wolf, even of Bran and Maester Loel. Myra spoke to them and smiled with true feeling when she was with them.

Robb could not make himself envious of Abby or Mal, though he noticed that Myra had taken to handing their children over to him whenever she could. He loved his time with Mal and loathed having Abby out of his arms, being as fascinated by and in love with her as he ever had been. But it worried him that, Myra always looked on edge when she was in sole care of their children as though she was afraid of them.

In any case this night he had shoved her away in bed, she had been slowly inching towards him and all he had wanted to do was rip out his hair.

"How much am I meant to take?" he asked sitting up at the edge of their bed, his face in his hands.

He could feel her fingers touch his back and draw sharply back when he had practically spat out his question.

After a spell, his palms still pressed against his closed eyes he heard her speak, so softly, so small and frightened, he felt as though his heart was being dragged over a thousand Valyrian blades "I'm sorry."

With a gasp Robb let go. His grey eyes squeezed shut a moment longer, his pain was nothing compared to what he heard in her voice. He knew her in way that he had not known anyone before. They were the same. He was all that she had, she was afraid of losing him and he would be sure that would never happen.

"My little dragon. Come here." Robb turned, taking her in his arms he held her close. She gripped him tightly as though she thought he would spontaneously vanish, "I'll hold you forever. I'll be here forever…" he kissed the top of her silver-haired head, as he lay them back down. Robb was sure that he could feel the panic in her heartbeat ebb away slowly "Don't you worry. You've done nothing to be sorry about my love. You just sleep now," he kissed her sweet smelling hair again. "Sleep…" He spoke thinking to himself that tomorrow would be better.

But it wasn't. Not really. As much as Robb knew that Myra was his, he could not completely stomp out the fear and suspicion that had bloomed in his soul. He could feel himself growing uglier and uglier in her beautiful violet eyes.

When he had found Jaime Lannister's letters in his desk Robb had done all he could to appear as calm as possible. At first he had no idea what they meant, a series of random lines and characters. If Myra had not come in at that precise second of discovery to say what they were, he would have thrown them out. She had been nonchalant in explaining, offering him the key for the symbols and disclosing the information in the letters without any provocation from him. Treating the whole matter as though it were nothing, nothing that she was maintaining a correspondence with a man across the Narrow Sea.

Robb had almost wished that she would have tried hiding the letters from him or at least acted as though there was some secret meaning in the exchanges that she had with her friend. Then he could have had reason to take up her offer to translate the scribbles himself, he could have had reason to quell the worry in his mind. But he wanted to trust her, he did not want to hurt her or seem insane so he told her that he did not need anything but her word about what was in the letters.

Robb flinched, he could hear the sound of laughter. He was growing to hate that sound coming from Myra's lips. If it was not Abby or Mal or him it usually meant that someone else was making her laugh and giving her joy. And that annoyed Robb more than he would have liked to admit to himself. He shifted Abby's weight in his arms, as he walked out of the Great Hall with Silver and Abby's little unnamed white pup at his heels.

"… I mean it. You really must have not seen his face." Robb heard a voice different, yet far too familiar for him to believe.

"Snow?" Robb asked. His frown replaced by a happy smile when he saw exactly who, the figure all dressed in black was that was talking to his wife in the courtyard.

"Stark," Jon bowed his dark haired head in greeting, returning Robb's warm smile. "I was asking this lovely creature how you managed to trick her into marrying you…" he nodded at Myra as Robb handed Abby over to his silver-haired wife.

"You bastard" Robb smacked Jon on the shoulder, with a wide joking grin before pulling him into a hug. "What are you doing here?"

Jon moved away after returning the hug, with some confusion on his face, older and more ragged then Robb remember it "Suppose my raven was delayed." His dark, near black eyes now diverted by the baby in Myra's arms, he hunched a little wiggling his index finger at the baby "Hello, there little one. I'm your Uncle Jon, Lord Commander of the Night's Watch…"

"I do not think she cares about that, _Uncle_ Jon…" Myra smiled, evidently already fond of Jon, she handed their inquisitive daughter over to an apprehensive looking Jon. Robb did not even try moving to hold Myra, knowing that it would have been a pointless effort.

The nervousness of holding a baby seemed to dissipate as Jon spoke, staring at his niece "She may not… I certainly do for her sake…" Jon added with purpose, his dark eyes lifting to meet Robb's "Winter is coming…"

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**Let me know what you think!**


	18. Chapter 18: Blackfyres and Snow

**Hi! I'm really sorry to have disappointed anyone. It's really funny because this chapter happened to be the one that started off this story in my head. And after plotting out my whole story, it was one of ten of the first chapters that I just had to write for myself straight away (I had been in the middle of nostalgically watching a beloved cancelled HBO series as well as Game of Thrones).**

**I love all of my reviewers and happy to have criticism regarding my character development, writing style and composition. If the way that I portrayed Myra or Robb's reasoning was miscommunicated then I apologize and will hope to be clearer while depicting future decision processes. **

**If the issues are regarding building on character or understanding of the world, I would like to advise looking at the fifth Catelyn chapter of 'A Storm of a Swords' which has a discussion of Robb's views on succession and his last will. For the general universe the position of the Sand Snakes, the basis for the Blackfyre Rebellion and even Ramsay Snow prior to and after being legitimatized (each House and person has had a different response to 'bastards' in their care).**

**Once again sorry about editing. Brain still the same, love for my readers still the same. :) Hope the spring is springing well for you. On we go!**

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**Chapter Eighteen – Blackfyres and Snow**

Myra spent much of her time trying not to explode in a mess of tears around her husband. After she had made sure Bran would not be breaking his promise of secrecy, Myra had tried staying away from Robb. A plan, which would have worked if she did not long to be as close to him as she could possibly get without burrowing beneath his bones.

A short trip to visit those maintaining Winter's Town played over in Myra memory, she had come across Tyella at the town inn, which had been a pleasant surprise. Though Myra had offered her former nurse her position within Winterfell again, the young woman had stated that it would have been far too painful to return to the fortress after living through what had happened there.

Now, as Robb held her after he had snapped angrily at her, Myra wondered if what Tyella had stated could be applied to the pain of returning to her own husband's bed. The somewhat fresh mark on her skin from a week ago, from their only tryst since he had returned burned on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry…" she muttered against his bare chest again, as he went on consoling her. When she thought her son had died Lady Catelyn had cried bloody tears, tearing strips from her face and screamed so madly that the Lord of the Crossing had her throat slit to make her stop. From the bottom of her heart Lady Catelyn had mourned, had lost her mind. As far as she had known, despite her most desperate attempts someone had taken her son from this world, slain him before her very own eyes. Myra wondered if she too had lost her wits, but in a different way from Lady Stark. For Myra knew 'someone' had not taken her son away, she had lost Rian herself. If the guilt of what she had let happen to Rian months before had not been enough, the guilt of wanting something other than her Robb's company was.

He had been impressed with her designs to restore the Dreadfort, it had made very little sense to let a valuable volcanically heated stronghold go to waste, simply because the Bolton House had become extinct. Preparations for Winter, especially following the drain of the war, were most the important priority and the Northern people had already spent as much time as they could spare on repairing Winterfell. Myra had made to sure try to manage it within means, while both she and Bran had waited to give rule of the fort to whomever the King of Winter would deem worthy.

Myra knew Robb had attempted to connect with her through this endeavour of hers, which subsequently led to her handing the project completely over to him and the builders' guild that she had been conferring with. Instead Myra focussed on immersing herself in histories of what she assumed was her Targyren family. For, though she may have been illegitimate, Myra could no longer deny they were a part of her. She could also hardly deny that she found herself longing for Jaime's company again, despite her wish to desire otherwise.

She knew it was wrong but all Myra could think of was the last time that she had no one that she could really talk to and very little to distract her. At Riverrun she had 'Jim', who was removed enough from everyone and crude enough that she was able to speak with him on different terms than Osha, Meera, Brienne or any of the other friends she had made along the way. And she wanted that connection with him back.

At first Silver had been there for her, but with Robb's return the violet-eyed direwolf had clung to the stony-eyed man's side even more than Abby and Mal had. Always she seemed to be at his feet, brushing against him, trailing after him, which Myra supposed was at least better than one of the other direwolves following him around Winterfell.

By far stealthy Summer and lean, athletic Silver had been the most tame of the wolves, even more then the little pups who were rowdy in their own right. While the wolves all required a fair amount of time hunting and running outside of the fortress walls, stocky and dark Shaggydog was the most wild of them. He would vanish for days. Once he had his fill of travelling he would scare the daylights out of the maids when, without warning, his green eyes would peer out of the darkness in the halls of Winterfell. In this relationship Myra saw a true growing stretch for both Rickon and his wolf.

At one time Rickon might have spent much more of his energy calling for Shaggydog, but now they seemed to understand one another. Realizing that Shaggydog was not in fact a pet, the boy let the wolf go and the wolf was much calmer for it. Still wild, but calmer. Shaggydog would heed Rickon's command, but continued to have very little patience with others. Snapping his teeth, and growling if he was unpleased. All the while keeping watch over Rickon.

Myra could not help but grateful to the viciously regarded creature, the black wolf appeared to know when Rickon was missing him, unwell or need of him and would return at exactly the right moments. Myra was glad for her little pup to have a partner, even if it added to her guilt at the fact that she had not been as present in his or Mal's lives as she had been before 'it' had happened.

Squeezing her violet eyes shut, Myra pressed her nose against Robb's broad chest under her head, inhaling the comforting scent that was all him. That overwhelming smell was enough to make her want him in ways that had her trembling. It must have been the same for him, each day this week she had woken up with her silver hair piled over her head, with Robb inhaling deeply and very stiff against her. His battle calloused fingers trailed over her naked skin, Myra was certain that he must have felt the sparks under the wintery trails he drew on her back and up her sides.

This frustration was her fault too. Though he was trying to console her, Myra knew his exasperation was her fault. The red eyes and silver flames in the darkness would not leave her in peace. Myra envied Bran for being able to cope with what he said he had seen in his dreams, she envied Rickon who did not have them as frequently and Robb who did not seem to have them at all. Daily she would find herself nude a top her stormy-eyed husband, no matter how far she moved to her edge of the bed or how many layers she put on at the beginning of the night. Her hot skin would seek his in the night and only then would her dreams cool down.

"I'm sorry…" she held him as tightly as she could, as he shushed and rocked her back to sleep.

* * *

_… he brought was frighteningly small and burning up. Such a strange lad my intended is. All of this trouble. Poor thing must truly be the favourite of his…_

Myra sighed scratching the coarse fur behind Grey Wind ear, leaning some of her weight against his huge form as he sat beside her. She heard the sound of giggling, mixed with the clanging of metal and bustling of the castle, coming through the open library window that looked out on to the courtyard. The days of Myrcella and Sansa helping her get ready in the morning or shadowing her had passed as soon as Myra had become aware she showing in the slightest, days before 'it' had happened. An age could have passed since she had properly spoken to either of them.

Running madly and fretting over the children's whereabouts were also no longer a constant ache for Myra. With Robb's return there were better, more capable hands, to care for the children from her perspective. Since that time she had managed to comb through and take apart the library.

As she smelled the ancient parchment, read and taught herself, Myra felt transported to her mother's side again. The scent of sweet cakes she baked, the herbs she dried, the shine of brown hair that she messily gathered up on her head, her joking and insistence on learning… Myra could almost feel the comfort of her mother voice as she read.

She supposed it was not odd that during the Bolton occupation very little time was devoted to the pursuit of reading or bothering with books. A few of the empty shelves closest to the door of the room, suggested that some of the volumes had been ripped apart for sick amusement or taken to be burned. Which was why closer to the back of the room Myra had been able to find what seemed to be the torn bottom portion of a handwritten page concealed under a particularly hefty and long undisturbed volume of the 'Fundamental Histories of Eastern Religions'.

Myra smiled softly at the yellow-eyed direwolf as he had playfully batted at the scrap of paper in her hand in a clear attempt to demand her full attention back. In such moments, Myra had felt herself slowly coming back to life. She caught her lips smiling, or her stomach growling in hunger, or a joke forming in her mind, or a tune wanting to play from her mouth. Still, whenever she saw Robb or was near the children she felt uneasy.

She was afraid of herself. Blurting out it all out would be horrible. Getting caught up in the moment again, as they had done on Robb's first night back, would have been much worse. Bad enough it had happened once, the fear of carrying and losing a child was continually in her mind. Myra could not wait for her next moon's blood, so she could relax a little more… nevertheless she was reviving. Slowly.

Myra prayed before the weirwood, asking the old gods where she could find the strength that Sansa had forged. After all that she had been through, the red-haired Lady Lannister still smiled. Still took part in life. Though she was uncertain of the whereabouts of her husband, Sansa did not submit to despair, rather steeled herself living up to the Stark in her lineage.

All the while Myra carried on missing Abby's weight, seeing her strength grow, the smell of her dark hair, her smiling… but despite this, she was always sure to return their nine month old daughter to Robb's arms the minute she had finished nursing. She missed shooting, but avoided the practice yard when Bran was there, utterly guilt ridden over the undeserved position she had forced the boy into. She missed exchanging stories about her mother, but could no longer trust herself with Mal or Rickon.

She missed everything about her life, but held on to the deep sense of shame and unworthiness that stained everything she did. Had she done the right thing? Robb had not met nor mourned for his son, was it her right to deny him of that? How could she say all that she had done and still expect his love?

Myra shook her head. She couldn't linger on that. Her heart would pound. Her mind would run rampant, and she would need the balm of the Winter. A cold only to be found in the soothing touch of her steel eyed husband or in the open air of the North, when her breath misted before her.

It did not surprise Myra that Robb carried the cool of the climate that they had both grown up in, but in him she felt the ice of Winter as though it ran with the blood flowing through his veins. Despite this his grey watch, his touch had always sparked a warmth in her, one that would set both of them alight… surely they would both burn, if not for his ice to balance her fire.

Grey Wind nudged his head against the dip of her waist. "Sorry, my darling friend…" she directed her lilac gaze to the massive wolf "the mind wanders… and this is rather intriguing…"with the ease that came with trusting what others considered an intimidating animal, Myra waved the torn paper large wolf's nose for her explanation.

He poked his dark nose at the scrap curiously, leaning into Myra's hand as she scratched between his ears again. There was a soft rumble that reminded Myra of Robb when his voice was gruff with sleep or anger or want…

Grey Wind made his way passed Myra skirts further back into the murky and even more dusty depths of the library. "What are you up to?" Myra mumbled with obvious confusion. Tucking her silver hair behind her ear Myra followed Grey Wind into the darkness. With the open window she could make out an outline of Grey Wind at the edge of the book shelf pressed against the furthest wall from the window. He was clawing at the wood where the side of bottom shelf met the wall and floor. "Grey Wind… don't do that." He carried on for moment, when all at once his head perked up. He stiffened and looked in the direction of the breeze blowing through the window, before scampering off out of the room. Though yet again finding herself at a loss Myra followed Grey Wind's perplexing behaviour into the courtyard, coming finally to meet the brother all clad in black.

* * *

Jon had gotten him good and drunk. He had given Robb news enough to drive any man to it and Robb in turn had news that did the same. Though he had received the news earlier at the Wall Jon had still had the most difficult time hearing of Ayra, the worry that him settled deep inside him stirred. However, no easier was seeing the pain still fresh from the Red Wedding, their father's burial, Maester Luwin's passing and Sansa's marriage. Though for the last Jon reasoned that if it had to have been a Lannister, for her sake, Tyrion Lannister would be the best of them.

As he had his said hellos to Bran, Rickon and Sansa, Jon was unable to deny that all of them, all of the Starks had changed in the time since he had seen them last. Winterfell itself had been altered, though it functioned much as it did, small things such as smells were not the same. Jon supposed that it had been silly to expect that he would be the only one to change over the course of what had occurred in the past two years. The once familiar things, such as the heat of the fortress, now felt strange to him.

And though the ties and similarities of family were unquestionably present, the differences between them had become more drawn for Jon. Save Sansa, they all kept a closer physical reach to their wolves than he did with Ghost, who had Jon had not seen since passing the Wolfswood.

Jon had mused that Ayra was still most like him in that respect and interestingly Rickon too, had developed a similar attachment to his relatively aggressive wolf. Jon did not doubt that while roaming the Riverlands Nymeria would have grown larger than the rest of the more domesticated direwolves, much as Ghost had in the white wild beyond the Wall and as Grey Wind had with battle.

Sansa as beautiful as ever, had lost herself it seemed since her travels to the South. Jon had not expected any more than what he had gotten from her, which was an affectionate embrace in greeting and general interest in his health. But he did not anticipate meeting the woman she had become, with a single look he knew this sister was not the girl he had parted ways with on the Kingsroad. Her hopefulness for a life of romance had not diminished but simply been altered. The chivalric tales had been put aside, the happiness she sought now was not something forced on her rather something she had decided upon. She had grown up.

Jon had not thought he could be so happy at seeing Bran awake. It seemed that he adopted a thirst for studying the mysteries and literatures of Westeros, that reminded Jon of Sam at the Wall. Jon would have thought he was on the path to becoming a Maester if had not been for the adventure that he saw living on in the boy's brown eyes and the mention by a babbling Rickon, of a certain girl by the name of Meera from the Neck.

Meeting Abby and then witnessing the treatment of Mal at Winterfell, had something of a pleasant shock for Jon. His own experience had been so different.

"I'm sorry for your Lady mother as well, Robb…" though less drunk than his companion, Jon slurred, raising a mug in salute. "I never meant her any ill will or for you to think less of her on my account. She did clothe, teach, shelter me. What more could a bastard ask for besides that?" he asked when Robb raised his chalice, wearing a dubious expression.

"A mother I suppose…" Robb sighed, gulping down another mouthful of strong ale before pouring himself more. The fire in torches of the Great Hall had almost completely died. Other men had straggled along with them in the Hall after dinner, but as the night wore on they had retired, leaving the two brothers at a long table with a large pitcher to keep on drinking into the quiet hours of the night.

"That is for you and yours, brother. Myra is one for Mal…" Jon held his hand over his own mug when Robb tried to give him more ale.

"Aye." Robb winced as drained his cup and messily poured himself another. "My sweet wife…" his lips smacked after the large gulp he took of his drink. "Mother of my child- my children…" Robb laughed humourlessly down at the table, speaking after a long pause as though he was admitting something he had not wanted to "Sh… she won't even lay with me, Jon. My own wife…"

Though he had assumed drink would be necessary after the news he had delivered from the Wall, Jon had not expected his brother to become quite so emotionally intoxicated. Jon did not know what to say to that, his coal eyes fell to his nearly empty mug. This silver-haired, violet-eyed woman who had healed wounds at a pace that could only be supernatural, was all at once too fantastical to be true, an apparent boon to the North and in all likelihood as much of a bastard in blood as he was.

Jon did not know why but there was something familiar about her, before he could think on it his reflections were interrupted by the drunken admissions of his brother across the table.

"I walk around…" Robb inhaled deeply through his nose, "with this …" his face twisted in pain he gritted out unable to finish as he clutched his chest.

Jon shrugged, tapping his mug. He would be lying if he did not confess something was evidently amiss with the way Myra in interacted with Robb as compared with everyone else. She could chat and smile but she was distant with Robb. She went about it politely, but it was very noticeable that something was happening, largely because Robb was so obviously irritated by her behaviour. Thinking of his brothers on the Wall, of the men Beyond the Wall, Ygritte's views even, Jon responded as he would to them if they were suffering so much, however he took care to word it more kindly.

"Why not go elsewhere?"

Robb, who had been leaning his head against his palms, dropped his hands from his face to look at his brother. The expression he wore was one of complete stupefaction, as though he could not comprehend what he had just heard. Between the time Jon had said it and the time it took for Robb reach across the table to pull Jon up by the fabric of his jacket hardly a breath had passed.

Shaking Jon in some sort of rage, the intensity of Robb's voice translated "There is nowhere else. I would rather live this way than… than…" Jon watched suddenly sober, at first taken aback by the outburst and now the swift drowsy weakness that caused Robb's drunken strength to drain away. Jon felt Robb's grip loosen as the high lord of Winter slumped back falling to the ground, barely missing the bench that he had pushed back in his abrupt outrage.

He heard a sad sort of laughing from where Robb had fallen, and laying down on the stone floor of the Great Hall. Jon moved to stand at his brother's side, uncertainly watching as Robb chuckled humourlessly on the ground. "There is nowhere but Myra…" rubbing a weary hand over his face Robb laughed, looking up at Jon, who could see his grey eyes becoming glossy with tears.

"Time for bed I think" Jon stated, holding out a hand to help the King up.

"Don't you see?" Robb gripped Jon's shoulders, staring him dead in the eyes once he was standing. When Jon didn't answer and just tried prompting Robb to head towards the family rooms, Robb tsked "I love her… there's nowhere else" he lazily slung his arm around Jon's shoulders, letting Jon lead him out of the Hall through courtyard to the shadowy halls of the Great Keep. "I'd rather die…" Robb trailed off.

"I'd rather you didn't…" Jon grunted as he half dragged and half supported Robb's drunken form "I've got enough problems… my own woman and my own corpses as it is."

"Very worrying to be sure…" Robb ran his words together, sluggishly bobbing his head in agreement, tripping over his feet and partially asleep as he walked "… red-eyed witches and the undead, very worrying…" they arrived at the door to Robb's chambers. Jon waited for him to open the door "very worrying…" Robb repeated quietly, swaying as he stood staring at the wooden door.

"Robb…" Jon urged as heard some soft scratching on the other side of the door.

The hinges creaked as the door of the dim room inched open "Robb?" Jon heard the question in his sister-in-law's voice. He didn't see her much of her though, just a wisp of silver hair, before Robb tumbled into the room and engulfed her in his dark shape.

"My lady I…" Jon began, moving towards the pair standing just inside the door. Fearful of Robb's weight crushing her small frame, Jon had been about to offer to help wrench him off of her, before she cut him off.

"It's fine…" Myra spoke, lifting her arms as much as she could from under Robb's encirclement and her hands shaking in a gesture for Jon to stop at the door. How she could see past Robb, Jon did not know. "Thank you, I will manage. Please go take your rest..." she went on.

Jon bowed his head, closing the door as he backed away. Blowing out a whistling breath through his lips he walked to his room. With all that that had changed and been unfamiliar, between his brothers at the Wall and at Winterfell, Jon was sure one thing that could always be certain… that any man was as ham-handed and foolhardy as the next under the influence of drink.

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**Can you guess which TV series I mooched off of?**

**Sorry for the long author's note, haven't responded directly before, just wanted to be sure the information was out there to avoid further confusion. Please correct me if I was wrong (I want to know for future reference). Editing apologies too.**

**SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO FREAKING EXCITED FOR THE PREMIERE THIS WEEKEND!**

yay!

**Also: Happy Easter! To both those celebrating the holiday and those just celebrating the chocolate.**


	19. Chapter 19: An Artless Warmth

**Hi! Hope everyone's well. Sorry for the editing and clunkiness of this chapter. Just wanted to get more out there as soon as I could (probably not the best idea for the periods of writer's block, but…)**

**Anyway you all are awesome! **

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**Chapter Nineteen – An Artless Warmth**

"Tell me, Myra. Myra. Myra" Robb had repeated, at whisper only she could hear. He crushed her to his body, causing Myra speak over him in order to tell her brother-in-law to go rest. She had not expected to find her husband drunk at the door.

When he had not come up after some time, Myra assumed that he had simply retired to his, as yet, unused room. When Sansa mentioned the custom of separate bedchambers, Myra had thought the proper lady had been giving her own version of a joke. She had laughed with Robb when she found that Maester Lowel had taken it upon himself to prepare a room for Robb to sleep in, before he had realized the couple preference. If they were able to help it they had never slept a whole night without one another. As the hours had worn on she tried to take solace in the weight of Grey Wind's head resting against the curve of her waist and even so, after checking on Abby for the fourth time, as she drifted off to a restless sleep Myra had wondered if Robb could no longer help it.

Evidently he could not. Leave aside the inebriation, she had not expected to feel the desperate hurt that seemed to have consumed him. "My little dragon… tell me what to do." He gripped her firmly when she tried to pull away "I won't let you go." He gritted out, defiance in his rough voice. The dark stubble on his chin moved hot against the nape of her neck, his soft lips traced the fading mark on her shoulder as he spoke. "You're mine."

Myra began trying to wriggle a little to get out of this precarious grasp. "Robb…" She was not afraid, not of him, rather of herself in this position.

"No… not like that…" he lifted her off the ground, pulling her head down and pressing his mouth tenderly against hers as walked across the chamber to seat her on the edge of their bed. Myra tried not to disappear into a puddle of nerves, making certain to keep her mouth closed, though the action did not keep the devastating sincerity of his love from burning straight through her insides.

Pulling away to kneel before her on the ground, he took her small hands in his large gentle ones, kissing them he pleaded again "Tell me what to do." Before she could speak his shining grey eyes had closed, a wave of drunkenness looked to have struck him once more, he melted forward his head sliding up her lap as his arms wound around her hips. "Just be mine again."

Myra, who had raised her hands when Robb had shifted his weight forward, stared down at the unruly dark hair of her husband. She had done this to him, forced him to beg. Squeezing her violet eyes shut, Myra held her breath. She had hurt him without meaning to and now she had to try. She had to make herself try for Abby, for Mal, for him.

Weaving her fingers through his soft hair, she let go of her caught exhale. The tension in her posture slackened as she felt Robb's satisfied sigh caressing the skin of her thigh through her light shift. Ignoring the flush that ran through her, Myra instead focused on Robb's figure now being relaxed enough for her to push back. As she helped him take off his heavy jacket, she realized her action had been enough to ease him but not enough to keep him from needing to come back to her.

From his place, kneeling on the floor he crawled up her body as she slid back to lay against the pillows on the bed behind her. He wrapped his legs and arms securely around her soft shape, his warm breath fanning against the span of her neck, his cool lips brushing against her skin. As her eyes began to close, Myra could see Grey Wind's form move from where he had scratched at the door to lay over Silver and the unnamed pup on rug by the bed. The last thing she was aware of was Robb's chest rumbling as tucked her further into the snug shelter of his body.

When Myra woke up the next morning, she found her hand buried in his black hair and his fully clothed limbs as entwined with hers as possible. His nose nuzzled into the dip of her collarbone and she could fell his grip twitch against the clothed breast that he was cupping, as she thoughtfully tugged at the dark long tendrils between her fingers.

She could sense that he was wake, perhaps unwilling to move since she had not be so consciously in his arms in some time, most mornings she had taken to scrambling out of his hold as fast her body could allow.

"You need a haircut." Myra mumbled. "Else you'll look more wolf than man soon."

She felt his smile on her sensitive flesh, his legs and arms pulled her closer so his soft lips could kiss the pulse under her skin. "I wondered what that new weight had been…"

Myra did not know if was right or wrong to do so, but she had given him hope enough to smile. Surprising herself, she discovered that doing so had made her want to smile too.

* * *

Things had gotten better, Robb's demeanour had changed with Myra's attention to him and the whole kingdom seemed to benefit. While Myra had not felt comfortable with having him bed her again, she let him hold her and talk to her as she waited for her moon's blood to come. Her last had been on the day before Robb's return, and now with relieved anticipation she could feel her next at the door step… constant cravings and sore breasts all marked good news for Myra. Despite this restriction Robb seemed happier than ever, his hope had given him a way back to her.

All of those days following her acceptance of him again, he had been testing the measure of her warming up. From quietly entering the library in the midst of her searching for the rest of the handwritten passage, to regularly sniffing at her silver hair, to freely kissing the back of her neck or nipping her earlobe in an affectation greeting. She knew she had pushed him and now he was cautious pushing back, taking silent but undeniable joy in his victories. In fairness she had pushed herself too, each step and move was addictive to Myra as well, more and more she found that she was slipping helplessly down the slope that she had tried to avoid.

Robb soaked in the tub that had been brought to their room for this night. Following a day trip with Jon and the men that had accompanied their young Lord Commander from the Night's Watch, he had taken stock of what resources were readily available for the smallfolk around Winterfell and was clearly not encouraged.

She had come without a sound to his side, while at her heels Grey Wind split off towards a sleeping Silver and the white pup lying next to Abby's crib. With his head reclining back against the edge of the bath and his scorching eyes closed, Myra was aware that he could not see her but somehow she knew that he felt her approach even before her fingers dipped into the cooling water.

"Are you not getting cold?" she queried over the crackling of the fire in the otherwise still room.

"Would you like to warm me up, my little dragon?" he asked playfully, the weariness in his voice matching that in the heavy grey eye he opened to look up at her.

When all she did was blush, he scoffed lightly and closing his eye again "My head is just aching, my love, but you needn't worry. I'll be out soon."

She did not know why she did it, it seemed as though nature was taking over, compelling her to ease away his burdens. Her dress ghosted to pool at her feet, with a single touch his body reacted to hers instinctually moving forward to allow Myra space to slide into the tub behind his winter blooded form. The water was cold but as he blanketed her, his skin seemed to spark against hers. Myra's legs tangled with his as he rested his head back against the cushion of her chest, his eyes still closed, her hair silver falling to brush his arms. She touched his temples, drawing his face back wanting to make him feel better, she pressed a chaste but loving reversed kiss to his lips. His mouth lightly caught her bottom lip, not wanting it let go as she pulled away. His grey eyes were filled with questions that Myra did not know how to answer, so instead she kissed the skin between his dark eyebrows, before resting the back of his head against her breast.

As she rubbed the burning worries out his head, his stormy grey eyes fell shut, soft lulled moans escaped his lips and his body grew limp. At long last, after nearly two weeks since his return, she asked her drowsy husband what had happened in the South to burden him so.

In King's Landing, the notoriously shrewd Tyrells of Highgarden had apparently taken hold of much of the court, their forces being a large part of what was keeping Stannis Baratheon's claim at bay. Myra understood why Robb was unnerved, other Southern Houses would not have the same weaknesses as those loyal to the Lannisters. The Queen Regent's efforts had ensured that lions were still unceremoniously planted on the Iron Throne. Still, the Lannister's were steadily losing support and coin, principally due to the boy-king, Tommen's, marriage to Margarey Tyrell and the pillaging of the Westerlands ports by Greyjoy fleets.

Myra wondered what it would be like to be so closely surrounded, without family to lean on… she nudged closer to Robb. Suddenly feeling a strange jolt of sympathy for this mysterious creature, Cersei, who she had heard so much about, who too had buried her own son and who had to hardened herself while surrounded by courtly vipers.

For Robb, the sense of being encircled was bad enough even from Winterfell. If the Tyrell influence in court of the Iron Throne were to increase, the position of the North as a Kingdom could be put at risk. Myra pushed a palm against his forehead, laying small kiss at his left temple. She felt his tension give way a little, causing her to wrap one of her legs across his hips to keep his head above the chilling water. As he went on discussing the curious Petyr Baelish, newly anointed Lord of the Eyrie, Robb's coarsened fingers sketched lazy circles and traced the line of her calf.

This new, strange force in the East was highly disturbing for Robb. Not only because the lands Lord Baelish had inherited were infamously difficult to reach, but also because this devious lord had already served to tear the Kingdoms, as well as effectively Robb's entire family, apart.

Killing thousands and crushing those he did not need.

With an affected Robert Arryn as his adoptive son, Lord Baelish was a dangerously powerful and treacherous neighbour to have. If he were to challenge the Lord of the Vale, in his impenetrably mountainous hideaway, Robb would gain nothing but more lost sons and daughters.

Her battle worn husband had seen enough of death, and Myra was grateful, she could not bear the thought of more lost life. Adding to this list was the reason Robb's brother had visited from the far North, bringing news of pale walkers advancing ever Southward towards the Wall. It was news not only for the North but for all Westeros too. However, the way Robb talked of the Southerners it sounded as though they believed an eternal Summer was upon the land and would likely not accept the truth of Winter.

Jim would… she thought briefly, before other concerns raced through her mind.

Where would Robb's obligation to the other Kingdoms end as far as warning them? Now that enemies had made of their former allies, where would the Northern Kingdom get help if it was needed?

As these difficult questions filled her own head, Myra yet again wondered at how Robb had managed to sleep at all.

Wrapping her arms around his broad chest she held him close, with a kiss against his shoulder she breathed truthfully against his skin "I love you so much."

His fingers stopped moving, she felt him shift in her arms to turn his head towards hers. "Say it again."

"I love you Robb Stark" she nuzzled her nose at his intoxicating skin, lifting head to meet his grey gaze, "with all that I am." She placed another slow, adoring kiss on his lips. Drawing away, to feel him relax back against her in a way he had not been earlier.

They had moved to the bed and fallen asleep that night. The very next day they had moved on to arguing.

In the library Robb had silently been working out the rough estimates of the accounts in Kingdom. He sat crossed legged on a pile of blankets leaning back against the shelves that Myra was browsing through. Silver had rested her head against one of his knees while Abby, sitting between in between the gap in his legs, alternately babbled softly, crawled all over her father and chewed on a bone teething coral.

Normally Robb sat in awe of Abby, driven to utter distraction as she discovered new things. His joy would seem endless when she spoke 'Pa', the only real sound she could make, at the sight of him or when she crawled or when, as a more recent development, she had begun standing with some support on her little wobbly legs. But at the moment his dark brow was furrowed and his lips frowned as he angrily scratching figures out on the parchment resting on the makeshift writing desk formed by a book cover resting on the other free knee before him.

After spending some time in Myra domain looking over the histories of Winter in library, he had come to grips with the fact that Myra had been correct in her initial assessment. Other than fire, Dragonglass was the only viable option that was available to him if the threat grew to spread far South beyond the Wall. While it had been fortunate to know of the threat as well as the means of killing the threat, the means were expensive. Obsidian, or dragonglass, was only available by trade and because of the tenuous situation between the North and South, the deposit of sharp glass at Dragonstone would likely come at a larger expense than importing it from the Eastern port city of Asshai. Which was not to say it would not be costly…

Jon would leave tomorrow and the issue that sparked the argument had started with Robb's offhanded mention of the decision that Bran had made that morning, to depart from Winterfell as well.

"WHAT ARE YOU THINKING? SENDING HIM THERE WITH WHITEWALKERS ROAMING ABOUT?" her voice rose with her exasperation.

"HE'S ALWAYS WANTED TO GO THERE MYRA! WHAT CAN I DO?" Robb had shouted, as she huffed at him wanting very badly to rip off his old cloak, still wrapped around her shoulders, so that she could free her arms to hit something properly.

The anger blazing in her violet eyes seemed to sink in for him. As she watched her husband, who was now standing with Abby in his arms, Myra only grew more irritated. The fact he could have a shouting match with her while keeping Abby obliviously calm in his arms was maddening.

Also, increasing her frustration was her concern that her swearing Bran to secrecy had driven the boy to choose to leave Winterfell. It was not only the new dangers of the Wall and the Whitewalkers that made her fearful, but also the unknown perils of travel, terrain and less honour bound people.

To her annoyance a wide smile spread across Robb's face, followed by a gale of laughter that enticed Abby to squeal in amusement as well. Robb caught the teething coral as their violet eyed daughter clapped her slobber cover hands energetically. He walked towards Myra, who with narrowed eyes, now wanted strike the remainder of that laugh off of his face.

"It's not funny" she practically hissed.

"I know it's not, little dragon" he grasped her right hand in his, seeming to have guessed what she had wanted to do, he rubbed the pad of his thumb over the skin that she had torn when she had punched Roose Bolton at Twins. Though at first she had tried to move away, that gentle gesture had stopped her. Even with her anger, in her heart Myra could feel the same strange happiness that had made him laugh… they were fighting. Something they had promised in their vows, as two separate people being one, and that made him joyful despite the subject matter being disputed.

"I don't want him to be in harm's way either, but he is determined." Robb sighed. "I would try to make him stay, but with Jon leaving so soon there is no time to convince him that another opportunity will come…" Abby began reaching from Robb's arms, tugging at Myra's silver hair trying to reach her mother's arms.

Avoiding having to take Abby from his hold, Myra chose simply to move to hug Robb so that she embrace her daughter. Robb went on explaining, "It will not be forever, Bran will go to Riverrun learn the customs of the Riverlands under my Uncle Edmure, before taking his keep at the Twins…"

"The Twins? After all that he saw there?" It was dread not anger that filled her. She pressed her body closer to Robb, squeezing her violet eyes shut, trying forget the images that flashed in her head.

"He is to be the new Lord of the Crossing."

Myra felt her breath stall, "Robb I don't…"

"He has already agreed. Once the Reeds were mentioned his readiness became apparent."

Meera… Myra thought to herself. While she could imagine Jojen having his own draw, it was Meera Reed who had weaved her way into Bran's little heart. It may not have been rational but a sting of bitterness struck Myra as she thought again… Meera Reed…

"Must he leave at this moment?" she asked, as Abby's little, wet hand met her chin.

Robb's cheek brushed the crown of her head when he nodded "If not for this red eyed witch… I would…"

A new unexpected fear struck Myra heart, her grip on Robb tightened and her eyes opened wide as she spoke against his shoulder "Red-eyed witch?"

"Some R'hllor fire priestess, that once served Stannis…" Robb explained, his voice filled with weary misgivings "apparently she is far more charismatic than any natural thing should be, and Jon left her at the Wall with his impressionable men…"

Holding her tongue, Myra wondered if she should tell him of eyes in her dreams. Something stopped her, but not the same thing that kept her from telling Robb of their son's fate. This was a different feeling, one of terrible responsibility. "Could you not deny him?"

"I am not Bran's father Myra. I am his brother, same as Jon."

"But you are King also."

With a deep intake of breath he replied with his mother's words, "Family. Duty. Honour."

Fire and Blood. Myra could not keep the words from running through her mind. She squeezed Robb tightly as she could with Abby between them. Later, visiting the godswood for the first time in weeks asking for something other than reason as to why 'it' had happened, now she asked for strength enough to ensure the safety of the family that she did have.

* * *

On the day of his sudden departure Bran had been surrounded by his siblings and people preparing for his travels, making it almost impossible for Myra to have a moment alone with the young boy who had become more than a brother to her. He was her friend and she did not feel right just leaving all that had happened as it was, yet when she finally caught him alone in his chambers she awkwardly poked at the clothes he had packed. Only when she heard the sound of Rickon coming down the hall did Myra simply blurt out "Sorry". Bran raised his head from the books he had been choosing between at his bed, a small smile filled with kindness broke across his face.

He nodded, his tone conveying his caring "Before my trip to the South I will stop home again."

Home… Myra returned his smile, wanting to hug her lovely friend but as Rickon chased Shaggydog into the room the moment ended.

The amiable Jon Snow had, too, gone on that day. Though she had liked him, and heard of but not seen his wolf Myra was not sad to see him go. She was well aware of his responsibilities at the Wall, had wished him well and held on to Mal, who had developed a strong affinity for his new uncle. The boy had pounded at her legs, crying wildly as she sunk down to the ground to rock him, by the end of it he had wiped his nose against her skirts, asking why Bran had been allowed to go and he had not.

Rickon had also cried and though Myra had tried to calm her Little Pup as best she could while gripping on to Mal, Sansa was all that he wanted. Even though Robb stood, holding Abby a few steps away, Rickon hugged the red-haired girl around the legs. Self-consciously running off into the godswood when he made an audible sob. Sansa had calmly followed him, her sweet voice soon singing in the distance, a sure sign that she was working her healing on him.

Both of these events, Bran's leaving and the farewell itself, had tainted Jon's visit to Winterfell in Myra's eyes.

"Shh… My love, shh…" Myra's nose brushed wisps of his dark hair as she rocked Mal, his small arms holding her in return. She could sense Robb's presence as he moved to stand nearer, as Mal continued to freely sniffled. "Did you think of me…hmm" she hummed soothingly into his hair, as his breathing eased "…what would I do without you here?" as honestly as she could, Myra answered her son's question with her own.

"You'd still have Abby." She could see his huffy pout, she smiled to herself, as Nola pawed at her arms trying to get to the boy to comfort him too.

"But I wouldn't have you." She gently tickled his sides, until his laughter finally broke out and his arms wrapped a quieted hug around her neck.

* * *

**Just saw the new episode! Sad face Tyrion :( Good signs for the rest of the season though!**

**Let me know what you think.**


	20. Chapter 20: Heal and Ache

**Hey! Hope everybody's doing all right! Sorry about editing and stuff… still have no excuse for sucking so bad at that whole thing.**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty – Heal and Ache**

Hello Birdy,

I won't be visiting again. Your beast of a fellow knows why. I feel obliged to tell you my travelling kin has been rather demanding. For some skipping rocks are not enough. I left you with a picture of mine, he is quite fond of it. That old head grows quietly ill with the cold weather. Gee may have kept my neck out of the fire, in for the play. With him the last of the foolhardy honour I knew, but for Ev. In this foolhardy quest I have been given something back and can perhaps return it. My memory has improved. As for the name, it is still mine. You may have changed it but beneath all remains.

Ever yours, Jim

Myra smiled at the letter. The lines for each character were much stronger and purposefully, showing the growing strength in Jamie's left hand. It occurred to Myra that she had never seen this infamous knight fight, but the myth of Ser Jamie Lannister had the silver-haired girl picturing something akin to the deadly beauty of Brienne's movements. But for her the fact that Jim was able to regain a part of what he had so identified with was the more important, even it was not enough strength to match his former fighting state it was strength enough to grow and carry on.

In spite of the coding Myra could tell there was an alteration in the tenor of his message, something was softer with Jaime's familial ties beginning to rekindle with the finding of his brother.

She could guess that 'Gee' and 'Ev' were Jaime's uncles Gerion and Kevan Lannister. In the dank cellars below Riverrun, Jaime had told his stories the most amusing of which usually involved some sort of lark with his brother and Uncle Gerion. From his description of Gerion, Myra could see that Jaime had taken much of his humour regarding courtly life from his uncle, who was apparently fun-loving and adventurous. Years ago he had gone off in search of Lannister House's Valyrian steel greatsword, 'Brightroar', which had been long lost during King Tommen II of the Rock's attempts to sail to Old Valyria which had ultimately resulted in Gerion being lost himself.

According to Jaime, Kevan Lannister was far easier with authority than his fierce Uncle Tygett had ever been. Kevan had been relatively more noble, clever and good at taking orders from Tywin Lannister. With these descriptions in of Jamie's kin in her head, Myra knew the admirable regard Jaime held for these men. And for him to have developed a taste for honour despite himself was a pleasant event for Myra. He wanted to grow proud of the name, not simply be proud because of the name he had. However, there was more to trouble her in the letter than make her easy.

News of Lord Tywin's slow, hidden illness and this relative discontented were all important pieces of information for Myra to relay. Clearly brother Tyrion had been found, and the rock he was no longer keen to skip lay in the West. This 'picture' of Jaime must have been Princess Myrcella, Myra had seen the young girl beam whenever she spoke of her Uncle Tyrion. Though lately the beam had dimmed slightly... perhaps the girl was starting to feel unease here in the North.

This did not bode well, for if new the Lord of the Rock was nearly as cunning as his father and as rooted in Lannister pride as Jaime said he was, then the Winter Kingdom would have a new resourceful enemy. And though Sansa would by rights be Lady of the Rock, that tie could no longer be relied on. Myra shivered as she recalled that recognizing glance at her window from so many months ago, her mother's words still echoed through her ears 'the world is filled with dangerous people'.

Robb, however, did not want hear of it.

"Why would Jaime Lannister help us?" Asked he helped Mal onto a pony in the courtyard.

"Why not?" Myra asked. Her mind flashing to the first few lines of the letter "Why would he think he is not welcomed here?" She questioned, looking up at Robb who watched a proud looking Mal slowly take a turn around the courtyard on the pony.

"Because he is not…" Robb's grey attention shifted to his daughter, who hands were reaching out towards him from her place in a basket on the wooden table in the yard. "Come here, darling." He picked up the baby girl with smile on his face, bouncing before holding against his chest.

"Look!" Mal called from across the courtyard, as he turned the pony in full circle.

"That's wonderful, sweetling" Myra called with a wide smile, encouraging him to go on, before snapping her violet glare up at Robb. "What do you mean?"

"You cannot truly expect me to allow the man responsible for my brother's paralysis, the loss of my sister, my father's and by extension my mother's death in my home?"

"I…" the incest, the treason, the wedding burst through Myra's memory "… he did aid me here."

Robb nodded, his grey scorch filled with complete seriousness "I will not forget that. I gave him one night under my roof for it, but I cannot abide him here Myra. I cannot forget all the rest."

"But if it is true?"

"Then we have Sansa" Robb grey eyes grew heavy with meaning.

Myra understood immediately why he would not explain that his fair sister, was affectively a hostage. Thinking of her as a Lannister surrounded by Starks, Lady of the Rock separated from her liege lord.

"And if not her, and that letter from your Kingslayer is true, then Myrcella will be quite enough…"

Myra stood for a moment, not even addressing the 'your' her husband had bit out as her mind reeled. She knew he was right but it still did not make it any easier. Myrcella was a sweet girl, who had helped both she and Sanse get ready on many days, who had braided Myra's hair, who had bashfully admitted to once being infatuated with Robb and though she had been a bit sad lately she never failed to tell stories as though her only joy came from the joy of others.

Between distractedly amusing Abby by gobbling at her pudgy fingers, Robb carried on with a sigh, explaining "Lady Mormont has informed me of Lord Tywin's state, though he is either very good at trying to hide it or very good at acting. In which case if it farce and we choose to leave before we can be blamed for his death, then we will have weakened our position… while if it is true then the rest of your letter may be lies, lies that would have us lose our hold over the West for fear of my brother-in-law's return and even so, a freed lion like Tywin Lannister can be more dangerous in illness than in good health."

As Mal called again, Myra turned her silver-haired head back to the boy.

"Come back now Mal," her voice cracked, reminding her of Bran and only making her weightiness worsen, "we'll go see if Aldric's hungry.

"Myra…" Robb spoke he voice coloured with concern behind as she moved towards Mal. "I did not mean to upset you."

"I heard you Robb… I just…"

"Your Grace!" Captain of the Guard, Halis Mollen, galloped into the bustling yard, "A deserter from the Watch has been caught."

Myra turned away from Mal, her fingers gripping the reins of the pony's grey pony tightly. She wished he did not have to… she turned to face her dark haired husband. With one violet look at his heavy grey eyes she knew that he did not want to either. If he had it his way Myra knew, even without the look that he would rather do none of it…

* * *

"Where are you taking our daughter Robb Stark?" She grinned at the pair walking towards her in the drafty hall leading to the library. She was in a good mood, the days had been uncharacteristically bright, and though it could mean the calm before the storm, Myra could not take it as any more than a sign. Today her moon's blood would come, her breast were sore and she almost always drained. It was the last day and the relief that it would come today and all would be well was making her almost giddy.

Robb smiled at her, he had taken to reading the moments that she would be more open to him "Nowhere now, Myra Stark." He returned her smile "I was coming to ask you and Mal along. The sun is so high and bright today and before it gets too cold again I wanted to go to… this place…"

Myra chuckled it his expression as he tried to hide the specifics of what he was saying. She walked nearer to him, Abby gurgled in his arms and tugged at her mother's silver hair as she got closer.

"'This place' eh?" Myra smiled kissing her pouting husband's lips, rubbing her hand over their nine month old daughter's dark, wispy haired head.

"Mmmm" he hummed sweetly against her soft mouth.

"Is some secret place so wise, considering your Kingly duties?"

"It's not exactly secret, little dragon."

"Oh" she pecked at his pout again.

"It's a river bank." He revealed, as Myra leaned in again.

"As lovely as that sounds…" she kissed him, her tongue tasted the inside of his mouth more freely then she had allowed herself in some time, relishing in the sound of his groan as she pulled away "I promised Mal and Rickon I would teach them how to make rice pudding… I even got Sansa to drop her gardening to help me…"

"Rice pudding? Over me and laying in the sun?" He frowned, childishly looking hurt.

"Perhaps another day… but why don't you take Abby for now? You enjoy stealing her away in any case" though Myra meant to tease him she could help but beam up at her husband. The way he mooned and watched over Abby and Mal and all of them filled Myra's stomach with tingles that went from being sweet flutterings to her wanting to make more babies for him to carry around in his arms. Though recently she found herself shutting those thoughts out as much as she could… with increasing difficulty depending on the closeness of his wintery scent or stormy scorch or familiar body.

His warm grey eyes shone with unmistakable happiness at the prospect of a day off with his daughter. "I love you, little dragon" he nuzzled his nose against Myra's gently.

"Me too" Myra stood on her toes and bit playfully at the tip of his nose "enough to explode…"

* * *

The river was beautiful, calm and flowing when they reached it after their pleasant ride in the unusually warm air. Grey Wind and Silver had taken to romping around the nearby forests with their babies. They had stayed by Robb and Abby for a while before he urged them to go play. Mal had already become attached to Nola as closely and quickly as Rickon had grown attached to Shaggydog, Abby's pup usually followed Mal and Nola about, if he was not following Robb. Soon he would have a name and follow Abby too.

Robb could not wait for that day when his baby would go from crawling to standing alone and walking in front of him "Poppa loves you, little squirrel." She gurgled and giggled as he rocked back to lay on his comfortable cloak, maneuvering the sword at his hip as he rested against the soft grass of the soothing river's bank. Tossing Abby in the air making silly faces, watching her violet eyes light up with joy. He cradled her to rest on his chest, her dark short curls flitted up standing out against the breeze and the bright blue sky. A tender smile curled his at lips as he stared up at the serene white clouds drifting by, he rubbed Abby's back as she nestled against him.

A pang of sudden loss crushed his heart "Perhaps… just do not walk too well right away...or ever…" he held her more firmly against his chest. The slow, steady rise and fall of her breathing told him she had fallen asleep. "We need more days like this my sweet baby girl." He mumbled, drifting off to the sound of chirping birds, the rushing river and his daughter breathing.

* * *

"Your grace! Attacks some hours ago by Wights or Others or… Your Grace!" a terrified voice of the guard at Winterfell called.

Robb jolted. Bolting over to his horse, the strange attacks had become an ever pressing concern. Jon had insisted that something was stirring. And more and more often, south of the Wall, odd occurrences and figures had been spotted, but it seemed as soon as they appeared they would vanish. Leaving slaughtered livestock, empty households or nothing at all, but one thing was sure… they would be gone as quick as smoke no matter how fast Robb and his men were, they were never able to arrive in time.

He galloped his horse, the sun was high in the sky and heat burned on this day as Robb had predicted mirroring the others in the week, but he would not stop he had an obligation to the people who trusted him.

* * *

He was tired, his grey eyes itched, his bones and muscles ached. Robb's soul cooled as he entered the darkening courtyard in Winterfell, with his equally exhausted men. He let his grey eyes close and his head hang as his horse lead him in. He could hear his Myra and his Mal laughing …

Slowly Robb could feel each muscle in his face become heavy and move with horror. He felt his lungs become too big for his chest yet he could not seem to get enough air in them, his nostrils flared as his day flashed against the back of his eyelids.

"Robb!" Myra's happy voice called. He felt a weight that was both missing and crushing on his chest. "Where's Abby?" He didn't answer for what felt exactly the span of a lifetime. "Robb!" Panic had entered her tone "Where is she?"

"All the Gods!" he breathed out harshly. He wanted to find a sword to fall on, but halfway through his curse he was galloping away from the sounds of his scared, screaming wife.

* * *

"ABBY!" Robb had been in such a rush to get off his horse, he had gotten caught in the stirrups and tumbled the ground. With the wind knocked out of him he wheezed and spluttered "ABBY!" he coughed.

Why wasn't she crying? Or babbling? She could have crawled, wriggled… she wriggles so much now… "ABBY!" he ripped through the plants and bushes, ignoring the pain in his back. "ABBY!" All of a sudden one sound overwhelmed him. The splashing of the river filled his head, his own grey eyes landed on the choppy water, reflecting the silver moon that now hung in the sky.

No.

He pulled at his perpetually shaggy hair as he neared the edge of the water, he made sure it twisted and hurt. It didn't seem enough so he pulled harder.

No… his knees crumpled under him. My Abaigael.

He stared into the depths of the water, ready to keel all the way into his rippling moonlit reflection, when he heard a grumble in the bushes behind him.

A part of him hoped it was a beast preparing to kill him. But low in his gut he knew that sound, once he let himself recognize it Robb hobbled up. Somewhere between crawling and running he found Grey Wind laying over his Abby and her small unnamed wolf.

They were in a shaded area, the heat of the day had clearly exhausted Robb's huge wolf though the wolf's warmth had kept the little ones warm in the freezing night. Robb all at once wanted to rush to her and wanted to stay away from her.

Grey Wind snarled angrily at him as he approached. Robb sniffed, blinking away the water in his eyes, he bit the inside of his lips "Please hel- help me…" he looked down at his wolf, whose yellow eyes were fixed on him. "I don't want to break her…" he barely whispered.

They stared at one another for an eternity. Gradually Grey Wind lifted himself out of his protective stance, Abby's small white pup followed him. Robb collapsed hard on to his knees, he could feel the impact vibrate through his body. It didn't seem hard enough, he wanted to do it many, many more times, but as he stared at his daughter so peaceful, and soft and pure he knew he had to hold himself together for her. He scanned over what he could see of her. Most of her seemed fine, but her small right fist was curled tightly and covered in an unnatural pink colour.

"Oh gods…" he breathed. Robb did not know what to do with her. He felt as though he could poison her with his gaze alone, let alone what he feared would happen if he actually took her in her in arms.

How could she ever feel safe in his arms again?

"Your grace!" Voices called through the woods. It was all real.

He felt a nose, smaller than Grey Wind's nuzzle against his neck, Silver was trying to comfort him. With a deep breath Robb picked her up, immediately never wanting to let her go again. She cuddled into the warmth of chest under his cloak, as though nothing had happened, as though she could trust him, as though he could trust himself to protect her ever again.

"We're…" he coughed as his voice cracked, Silver rough tongue affectionately licked his cheek, while Grey Wind's apprehensive eyes watched his every move. Robb tried to calm himself with the familiar smell and up and down breathing of Abby's tiny, defenseless body "I'm here."

* * *

Myra's eyes were red and puffy when she lifted them to face Robb, she had not moved from her spot in the courtyard, neither had Maldric or Rickon and Shaggydog. Nola had returned by that time as well and sat next to a worried looking had chosen to stay outside the walls with the unnamed pup while Grey Wind had moved to brush against Myra.

The silver-haired girl did not say a thing, she simply looked up at Robb with disbelief flickering in her sad violet eyes. But as he dismounted his horse and moved his cloak to show that Abby was in his arms, Myra focus shifted to their daughter.

She stood up, and met him halfway. Her voice was cold as she spoke when she moved. "Give me my daughter, Robb." She held out her arms, her eyes still fixed on the baby in his arms.

"Myra…"

"Damnit! I said give me my daughter" her gaze seared his skin, and he felt sure that he deserved it, in fact he felt sure he that he deserved worse. "Rickon off to bed now. I mean it…" she spoke without looking behind her. "Mal you stay please" Sansa led Rickon and Shaggydogg away looking somber and uncertain. Still they all obeyed silently.

Robb squeezed his daughter closer to him, not wanting to let her go, not tonight "Myra, ple…" he began to whisper.

"No" she shook her head, jerking her outstretched arms at him, "I just want my daughter, I don't want to speak to you. I don't want to look at you. I don't want you near her. I don't want you…" she seemed to stop short yet resolved, reaching again. This time Robb could find no words to start to say. He caught a whiff of her silver-hair as she took Abby from him. His eyes fell closed offering the smallest moment of peace, which went away as his wife moved back from him and he opened his eyes to see her kiss their daughter's forehead and looking at her small inflamed hand.

She did not look at Robb again, simply turned and begin walking back in the direction of their rooms. "Time for bed, Mal." She stopped to call over her shoulder. Maldric's grey confused gaze was set on his father up to this point, the boy looked torn as he looked between Robb's face and Myra's back.

"But…"his small voice spoke.

"Mal..." Myra sighed.

"Go" Robb whispered, just loud enough for his son to hear. He tried to give the boy a reassuring smile, but he was sure it looked more like a grimace. Wavering slightly for a moment, the boy trailed his sister and adopted mother towards the Great Keep. The search party and the people around the fortress had awkwardly watched the scene unfold before assuming they had their leave for the night. Robb did not care he wanted everyone to see how much of a failure he was, to despise him as much as he did himself, he did not deserve comfort… over and over the thoughts throbbed against Robb's skull as he blindly exited the gates where he felt the unnamed pup wind its way around his feet and Silver's head nudge under his arm.

* * *

**SO EXCITED FOR THE NEXT EPISODE!**

**Last week's was so awesome. That sword fight, damn…**

**Weird Catelyn confession though… **

**Hope you're all liking the season so far as well!**


	21. Chapter 21: Pour Out, Drain Away

**"…The fat Dothraki put aside his knife to unsheathe a huge curved _arakh_, the wickedly sharp scythe-sword the horselords loved.**

**_They mean to scare me._ The fool hopped on Jaime's back, giggling, as the Dothraki swaggered toward him. _The goat wants me to piss my breeches and beg his mercy, but he'll never have that pleasure._ He was a Lannister of Casterly Rock, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard; no sellsword would make him scream.**

**Sunlight ran silver along the edge of the arakh as it came shivering down, almost too fast to see. And Jaime screamed." – A Storm of Swords, G. R. R. Martin**

**Moment of silence for Ser Jaime's severed appendage… still got his fun bits though (always a bright side)**

**…**

**Meant his brain! His brain! Mind out of gutter! Anyway hope you're all doing well! Thank you all so much for the support. And wow! Doesn't that quote just outline how far away on another level Martin is? Sorry about editing and pacing and usually stuff. (Wince) On we go.**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-One – Pour Out, Drain Away**

"Mal could you help me hold her still please? " they were in his room after Maester Loel had gotten her the herbs and bandages she had requested.

Quietly Mal moved from Nola's side to sit on his bed he pulled Abby out of Myra's arms holding her around the stomach to sit between his legs and lean against his chest. Standing at the bedside Myra's dark silvery brow furrowed as she looked down at two children facing her. She had tried calming Abby for a whole hour so she could examine her hand, and here was Mal who had relaxed his little sister in less than a minute. Myra felt a small throb from where Abby had kicked her left cheek when Myra had tried to lay the baby girl down. Grey Wind too rested his head on the bed next to Mal's leg, he not left Abby's side, trailing Myra even as she paced back and forth trying to pacify the babe.

Working quickly Myra clasped Abby hand, blowing on the slightly inflamed skin as she checked her to make sure nothing else was wrong. Knowing that in any case she would keep a very close eye on her daughter. All the while with Abby trying to catch stray pieces of silver hair with her uninjured hand as they fell out of Myra's braid. Myra had to smile as her daughter attempted to keep the pale hair out of her eyes.

However, as she crouched down to rub cooling slave on the irritated hand, all Myra could think of was that she could have lost another child. All she could see was the red wisps of Rian's hair, a sad lifeless bundle wrapped up in his father's cloak. It was shockingly easy to imagine dark hair like Mal's or Abby's in the same place as her red haired son.

"Did Papa hurt her?" Mal nervous voice broke through Myra's silence. Her violet gaze slipped up to boy, who was resting his chin on Abby's shoulder to look down at the little pink hand in Myra's grasp. She hadn't really spared a thought for Robb, what had Mal heard? What had she said? Her mind reeled at what she might have said in her distraught state.

Had Robb hurt her?

Myra's finger softly rubbed the lines in her daughter hand. She could still fell those indicating adventure, love, life.

Taking in a swift breath, she answered honestly "No." Her mind flashed to exhausted looking men who had entered the gates of Winterfell, her exhausted husband who had been on edge for far too long… and on today the day that was meant be his break this happened... "Look at me Mal." She waited until the boy's grey eyes, so much like his father's, met hers "I want you to understand. Your father loves you very much, he would never hurt you or Abby. You have to know he would die for you.

"I know he would, Ma."

He just… it was just…" Myra searched for a moment "just an accident." She finished softly. The realization that hit her after she had spoken the words… an accident. Her violet eyes closed she saw the bloodstained dress from that day in her head.

She opened her eyes to Mal give a bleak nod, before kissing the top of Abby's head and smiling as the infant giggled. Nola was becoming curious, nudging at Myra's leg.

"Yes." Myra glanced down the grey wolf "I hear you girl. Time for bed." She chuckled at Mal's groan, carrying on with bandaging Abby's hand.

Myra promised to stay with Mal until Abby fell asleep. He wanted to make sure Abby didn't have emergency need of him, Myra heart warmed as she watched the young boy struggle to keep his tired eyes open. Finally he drifted off to sleep, but Abby was not so easy. Myra could guess why. Since Robb had returned Abby had taken to dozing off in his arms, drifting off to such a sound sleep that almost nothing woke her. Though Beena, Sansa and others had tired Abby would only go into a restless interrupted sleep with them, waking as soon as someone moved her or passed her to another person. Strangely, if Robb was far off for the night she was willing to sleep in Myra arms. It was as though the child knew that her father was close enough so he was who she would wait for.

"Okay my love…" Myra sighed, a half hour later she held her violet eyed daughter up "you win…"

Myra had made her way to stand outside the door to his room. She had check their bed chamber only to find it empty and so, with Grey Wind at her side, she had wound up at the room that she had once laughed at.

With a grunt she knocked on the door. There was nothing, Grey Wind nuzzled the back of her knee, encouraging her. She knocked again, rapping her right hand harder against the door this time "Robb?" It was silent for a moment then she heard some shuffling on the side of the door when she spoke. Myra wondered if she could face him, after what she had said to him.

As the door creaked open she realized she couldn't so her eyes drifted to the bottom of the doorframe.

* * *

"Robb… I, ah, I can't hold her the way you do." She blurted out as soon the door opened.

"Myra…" he tried speaking through the pain of the fact that she could not even look at him.

"She won't settle. You need to take our daughter…"

Robb eyes drifted down to his sweet babe in his wife's hold, withering and reaching out to him. His arms instinctively moved up but then stopped short when he caught sight of the bandage on Abby's right hand, he felt sure he would hurt her again. "How is she?"

"Abby is fine…" Myra's violet eyes finally met his as he dropped his arms to his sides. "Gods Robb!" she moved towards him as he backed way from her worried expression.

He wanted to yell at her, he didn't deserve her worry. Through his thin tunic he felt his back hit the rough stone wall of the doorway, he wondered if she would notice if he did it again… harder. But she wouldn't stop with her advance, holding Abby in one arm Myra worriedly looked him over. Robb found himself smiling limply as their daughter nestled her small dark-haired head against her mother's neck…he always loved that feeling of his baby.

"What happened?" Myra reached out with her free hand, she was close enough now that she had to crane her silver head to look up at him. Her fingers ghosted over the bruise under his swollen left eye.

He hissed when she touched him puffy skin she winced as though she felt it too. "It's nothing…just sparring…"

"Sparring…" The concern in her gaze turned into disbelief. "At night?"

"Fighting?..." They both knew that he could beat any of those men to a pulp especially if were only practicing, he was no superhuman but he was strong enough to escape with small bruises and scratches. "Tell me… " she looked on him with sympathy expecting the truth.

He sighed collapsing against the wall a little. He rubbed Abby's head softly with his right hand causing Myra to gasp. "Robb!" her eyes widened once more at the brutally raw knuckles on his right hand.

Robb took a breath and began answering the questions she was asking with her shocked expression "I punched the ground, a lot" he looked at his raw hand.

"Did it hit you back?" Myra's tone was between mocking and confusion as she looked over the state of his face. He shook his head, "Why Robb?"

"I just, argh" he roughly raked his fingers back through his hair. "I just forgot about her, just left her there." He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off.

"So you went and had yourself hit for a mistake?

"Mistake?" he scoffed, he had left her out there to… to… to… he pulled roughly at his hair.

"After all of the times you've been fixed?" she went on "After all of the times I almost lost you? You wanted to leave me?" He shook his head hands still in his hair "We need you here Robb, alive."

"Why?"

"You protect us." She spoke over his snort, her voice becoming hoarse. "You make me feel safe when you are near. And I need you to hold our daughter and I need you to hold me." She moved into his body, tucking her head under his chin, he could feel her inhaling deeply. Slowly he pulled his hands out of his hair and held her tightly to his body.

"You make me feel safe too…warm" he mumbled against her sweet smelling hair, he voice was progressively cracking "Like nothing else, my little dragon…" she nuzzled her nose against the line of his collar bone. Robb found his legs giving out, he slid down the wall holding his girls against him. Myra sat in his lap facing him, with Abby between them once more reaching for him.

"I-…" her voice splintered, he watched her biting her lips, she pressed her forehead against his shoulder "I need to show you something."

* * *

They had dressed warmly. Myra breathed in the comforting strength of Robb's heavy cloak around her shoulders, her thumb tracing circles against Robb's hand as he held hers.

Once Robb had lulled Abby to sleep, they had knocked on Sansa's door to find the girl still awake. She had agreed to watch over Abby, accepting the unnamed pup and Grey Wind to her room as well, however the large wolf seemed to sense the Sansa's unease around him and took to laying just outside the door instead. Meanwhile, Myra could feel Silver in the moonlit woods around them.

Robb seemed to recognize where they were going as they had rode out, even so, now as they were walking he remained silent. Myra feet grew heavier as they neared the open space where she had felt so much pain.

Myra had to stop a few feet away from where she had laid her little Rian to rest. Robb stopped too. She could barely breathe. Suddenly turning on her heel to face Robb she spoke, her words misting the between them. "Tell me you love me."

It may have been selfish. But as Myra looked up at him with her wide eyes glossing over with sadness and fear she was not sure when, or even if, she would hear those word come out his mouth again.

His face pinched in puzzlement. "You know I do…"

"Say it."

His steely grey eyes burrowing into the depths of hers, he stated slowly with utter conviction. "I love you Myra Stark." She swallowed, opening her mouth to speak but suddenly finding herself without air.

She turned away from him, craning back her head to look at the starry sky. Myra breathed in the comfort of the cold Northern air.

Myra could sense Silver nearby, silently giving her strength.

"We said we would talk. Remember…" Robb's quiet voice sounded beside her. "…we cannot read each other's minds." He repeated their words from Riverrun.

"And I haven't been…talking" Myra breathed out a foggy breathe, her eyes turning to the snow covered ground now.

"We haven't been talking Myra…"

Her violet eyes stayed stuck on the patch of snow where their son had lain. "There was a baby…" her voice was so quiet Robb had to move in closer to hear.

"Sorry?" He asked, wrapping his arms around her waist so her left arm pressed against the heat of his chest.

"A baby," she pointed that moonlit snow, tears slowly beginning to seep down her face. "A boy… our boy…"

She could feel him become rigid around her. "What?"

"Our son, Rian. I had missed five moon's bloods when he was born." Now that she had started the words seemed to tumble out of her mouth, she barely noticed when Robb let go of her. "Bran was telling me about what he was reading, we were on a calm walk and then this horrible wrong pain… just wrong pain filled me. He said I fainted and that…" Myra lifted her arms as though she were cradling a babe "our son had come and gone, he was so small but so perfect Robb… redheaded and beautiful" she sniffed, before going on "Bran gave him a name 'little king' from one of your mother's books and we burned him here" she nodded at snow where her home once been "with my mother, so he would not be… not be…"

"Alone." Robb's hollow voice caused Myra to face him. His grey eyes filled with confused pain, his face with disbelief… his uninjured hand was pressed against his stomach. "Pregnant?" his eyes focused on the patch of snow.

Myra nodded lamely "I didn't want to distract you while you were…" she stopped when his stormy gaze snapped back to her.

His brow creased as he asked clearly unsure of what to think, let alone address next "Bran?"

"I made him swear never to tell. I-I was afraid, ashamed…" Myra tried explaining, taking a step towards him but stopping when he took a step back.

"Afraid? Ashamed? I had a son and you hid it from me." He scowled.

"I was going to tell you…"

"When Myra? Now I did something to harm our daughter…"

"No!" she interjected. "I just… it hurt so horribly" she was really having trouble standing now, she felt herself wheeze as she realized what she had feared was happening, her vision of her angry husband was blurring with tears "I couldn't think straight. I killed our child… me I did. I thought you'd hate me. And you do… oh gods…" she gasped for breath, she felt Silver lean against her as she fell to her knees "I'm selfish a wretched woman, I didn't want to lose you too..." as Myra babbled on. She sensed being lifted, even though she was sure she had been weighed down with iron. Robb cradled her before walking to sit himself somewhere close by, Myra couldn't really tell. All she could seem to do was cling to him as though he was the only air available to her.

"I couldn't touch Abby or Mal. I walked around like terrified ghost for a month. I thought if I touched them they would… And you came back, and I… gods I can't live without you Robb… the more I waited the more I thought I had kept you from your son… and he was beautiful and I feel happy when I think of having being here at all… I miss him and think about what he would have been and I think could I… how could I have any more children?…" she was calming down, sinking into the scent of him and soothing pounding of his heart, her grip still tight on him, her thoughts still jumbled.

"And I thought how could you bare to even look at me? But I can't do it Robb… you should know he was here" she took a shaky breath "everything, not just today but over these months has made it all the more clear…" nestling against his chest, where she knew his jagged scar was "if we're not honest we wind up stuck… not telling or really being together and I want to be with you. So desperately Robb. I can't see anything straight."

After a long silence surrounded by the sounds of the deep Northern night and forest he brushed his nose against her silver hair. "Tell me about him again." His gentle voice asked softly.

* * *

They had returned to Winterfell, quietly taking a sleeping Abby back. They rested their daughter down and they diffidently seemed to know.

They needed to make love, to heal one another's self-inflicted wounds by being one again. As her fingers dug into his broad back she knew he was where he belonged, she knew they made each whole and she knew it was a good thing. When he fell against her, his familiar weight atop her, his mouth panting against her neck, the joy she felt broke past her lips. Smiling was not enough, a few honest gleeful chuckles had Robb pulling his head back to look down at his silver-haired wife in confusion.

Returning his look of confusion with one of amused happiness, Myra waited patiently watching as a wolfish smile to mirror her own stretched across Robb's lips and up to his soft grey eyes. He knew the strange sensation of bliss in her, change had occurred again but this time it was the same for both of them.

With a playful wriggle of her dark eyebrows, Robb let Myra roll them so his was on his back. In all of a second she scurried to the bottom of the bed, pulled the thinnest of the bed sheets up and then resting at her place on top of him, she drew the sheet over their heads like a tent. The orange firelight streamed dimly through the sheet, "Let's hide."

"Forever?" Robb smiled an easy smile that Myra had not seen in sometime, as he lifted his left hand to brush her hair behind her ear, his contemplative grey eyes flitted over her face.

"For a while at least…"

"That eager to have me go?" he joked, cupping her cheek.

"Not so easy" she tsked, turning her head to kiss his palm, before staring down at him with a forthright smile "You're mine Robb Stark, I'll never let you go."

A sweet smile broke across his face, he gaze filled with some akin to gratitude "Gods, I am so thankful that you're here." He pulled close wrapping his arms tightly around her ribs, burying his face against her shoulder. The way he had said it, Myra knew he was thinking what other losses could occur on the birthing bed.

After a something of a silence she would have though he would have fallen asleep. The day and night had been an strange and draining one, but now she could feel his smiling lips pressing against her ear through stray strands of her silvery-gold hair. Beneath her, Myra could feel the gentle rumble of his chest as he began humming quietly "The Bear! The Bear! All black and brown and covered with hair!" She shook with a quiet laugh.

"What are you..." Myra tried tugging away to face him properly, but found his comfortable steel grip on her unyielding.

"Shh! Little dragon..." His hot wintery breath fanned over her sensitive skin, he squeezed her and nipped at her ear playfully chiding her "You'll ruin the song..." Robb made a show of cleared his throat, before going on softly "He smelled the scent on the summer air," Robb's nose burrowed behind her ear "he sniffed and roared," Myra giggled at the sensation of his lips kissing her skin, the rumbling noise that passed through him "and smelled it there! Honey on the summer air..." his voice was more of a whisper now, husky as he mumbled on, dragging his mouth and teeth down her shoulder, as he slid out from under her "...kicked and wailed, the maid so fair," dragging his open mouth over her back, he nipped her bottom before he rolling her on to her back "but he licked the honey, from her hair..." she squirmed, feeling the heat of his breath travelling up her thigh, it was not long her mouth was hanging open her hands buried in his hair.

"Oh gods!" Myra felt her toes curl as she convulsed, and fell exquisitely a part. Panting to catch her breath, the kisses trailed over her inner thighs as he pulled away, made her insides flutter and shudder again.

"I do not think I fully appreciated that song's sentiment quite right until you, my little dragon" he spoke between kisses up her stomach. "I missed that taste of you..."

Finally catching her breath, Myra dragged his head up. She did not know where he had found the energy, but now she knew that she was truly spent. With kiss she spoke against his mouth "Tomorrow we hide."

With a smile he nodded, adding "And talk…"

She kissed his forehead before he shuffled down to his head resting against her breasts. As he nuzzled against her Myra exhaust mind had enough just enough strength to realize first, that her breasts were still tender and swollen and second, that her moon's blood had not come.

* * *

**Whoa! Who can spell ralliecaster? Am I right?**

**Hopefully you liked it. Cringing as I'm posting it. Please let me know :)**

**Excited for next episode! **


	22. Chapter 22: Laying Bare

**Hi everyone! Hope you're all doing well. I believe parts of this chapter Is what they call fluff… so enjoy (hopefully…)**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Two – Laying Bare**

Sansa had come to meet Myra about planning for Abby's first name-day that morning, forcing Myra to pry herself out of Robb's unconscious steel grip and throw on her shift to meet Sansa before the young girl woke Robb up as well. Opening the door a wide enough to let Grey Wind and Silver out, Myra stated that Robb and she were taking their leave for the day, asking that food be brought at meal times and that they not be disturbed barring matters of significant importance.

"Are you ill sister?" the red-haired girl had asked, elegantly lifting an eyebrow.

"I…" she heard Robb groan behind her in the dim room, "please, you have been around Robb and Bran enough to take charge…"

"But I am not…." She began to protest.

"You said you would kiss your Lord husband when you saw him, Bran and Rickon are given practice lording and so should you as Lady of the Rock…"

"Yes, 'of the Rock'" Sansa emphasized to show where her concern lay.

Myra's chin pebbled in thought "Well… if the King can have a noble Hand then so too should I… A Hand of the…" her voice caught, she tried clearing her throat but the word still filled her with the worst unease.

"…the Queen..." a slightly confused Sansa finished for her. Myra nodded trying to let go of the uncomfortable flinch at the title as Sansa went on "But Robb doesn't have a Hand…"

"Well, I do." Myra smiled at the worried girl, a sudden thought occurred to her. Leaving the door slightly ajar, she went into a cabinet in the room to find a token to give Sansa. Bypassing the intricate dagger given to her by Lord Hoster, Myra violet eyes land on precisely the right, albeit long ignored, item. "Here…" Myra presented Sansa with the last arrow she had made by herself. Nothing overtly special. A simple ash shaft, fletched with a turkey feather and headed by a stone she had chipped away at to sharpen. She made it when she had been missing her home in the snow, when she needed to remember who she was.

It had been sitting in the closed cabinet with arrows crafted by others, her quiver and her bow for the past three months. "Until I make you a badge…" Myra shook the arrow at Sansa "I have complete faith in you…"

With some apprehension the blue-eyed girl took the arrow "Very well. I will try…" Sansa gave a nervous smile before bowing her head and moving away from the doorway.

Returning her smile and closing the door Myra placed another log on the weakening fire, slipped out of the shift she had hastily put on and relaxed back into her position against Robb. Laying with her back pressed into his chest, his arm moved around her waist drawing her close as he nuzzled his sleeping face against the back of her neck. She smiled lazily as she felt his breathing, sleepily drawing patterns on his forearm. This was the happiness she had being missing, at once a sudden blow of sadness and guilt hit her.

Before she knew it Myra found herself crying like mad-woman, curving around Robb's arm holding it to her chest to keep him there.

Robb had woken up with a start, he tried moving his arm but Myra would not let go, she could feel him lean up on his free arm behind her to see her better "Hey. Hey. Hey." His lips pressed a cool soothing kiss to her shoulder "What's got my little dragon all upset?" his nose brushed against her skin, "Eh?" he lay another kiss on her shoulder, as Myra calmed enough to be rolled on her back. Propping himself over her, he pushed her silver hair out of her tear-stained face. With his patient kiss to her forehead, Myra took a final shaky breath to calm herself. Her lavender eyes tracing the scruff and scars on her worried husband's, freshly bruised face.

"I- I was thinking of how happy I was in this moment. And then I just couldn't get Rian out of my mind… maybe it's because I haven't been free to… to do anything really and…" she sniffed, unable to handle the open wintery warmth in Robb expression she looked away towards Abby's crib "and I don't know if I can let go, I lost our son, what if I forget him…" she bit her lips stop them for trembling.

"Myra. Myra…" he called tenderly for above her drawing her violet eyes back to his gentle grey ones. "We lost our child…" he spoke slowly each word uttered with heavy emotion "You must understand that. You did not kill him or lose him." Myra eyes were filling with tears again, as she kept biting her lips and shook her head in denial "We lost him. It was not your fault." He stopped as he seemed to consider telling the rest "…Babes are dropped from their mother's wombs, my mother's mother lost four before her… I say this not to make light of anything. But so you can be sure, you have no blood on your hands my love…" he kissed the tears from her cheeks "you are a wonderful mother Myra. You show and have shown it every day, with all three of our children…"

Trying to blink away the tears, she stared up her husband when he pulled away "Three…" she gave a weak smile filled with pain. He nodded, the purplish bruise on his left eye somehow made his determination all the more endearing.

"We won't forget him. I swear it." He smoothed the calloused fingers of his wounded hand against her cheek swiping any tears there. His cool touch eased the pain of where Abby had kicked her cheek.

Slowly, Myra drunk him in. This wonderful man, father of her children, her husband, her friend. Hesitantly she nodded for him.

"Now rest…" he bid her to sleep. They both knew all too well how exhausting mourning could be.

She nodded again, as he moved off of her "Don't go…" she practically whimpered, gripping his right arm against her waist again.

Robb chuckled wrapping his arms and legs around her protectively, he tangled his strong, war-torn fingers in hers, drawing her left hand to his sweet lips "You will never be without me, I will follow wherever you may go…"

She turned in his grasp to look at him. Her gaze flitted across his face, he was grieving too. Myra leaned forward kissing his cheek, before moving up to whisper against his ear "I will love you until the day I die, my spirit will love you after that…" she echoed his sentiments from their hideaway in trees at Riverrun. She kissed him again and let him comfort her to sleep.

* * *

The next time she woke up, Abby was calling for a feeding and a change. With her eyes closed she could feel Robb get up, telling Myra to relax. She was grateful. She felt exhausted and was only half certain that the cause was grief. The other thing it could be, made Myra nervous… she was not sure, as she drowsily sat up to rest against the bed pillows. She was not sure. Her first bleeding after Rian had ended just before Robb's return… perhaps after what had happened her moon's blood had altered or become inconsistent as it had been when she had experienced her first ever bleedings.

Myra was brought back to the moment, though her eyelids were heavy she could help but smile at the joy in Robb's expression as he walked to the bed and sat next to her with Abby in his arms.

As she took her daughter Myra realized that after Abby had been born she bled twice afterwards, regularly…

The sound and feeling of Abby's suckling filled Myra with even more lethargy. She smiled at her daughter's bright violet eyes as the stared up at her. The babe's tiny fists happily kneaded Myra's breast.

Myra was relieved that Abby's hand did not seem to be bothering her. She lifted Abby's pudgy unwounded hand to her mouth kissed it then pretended to gobble it up, causing Abby to giggle as she fed.

"She had some of that pudding…" Robb's quiet voice spoke beside Myra, his head resting against her shoulder, his hand raised to brush over Abby's dark hair.

Maester Loel, who had been finishing his improvised training in birthing with Beena, had suggested solid food was now necessary for Abby's growth. However, no matter what they had put in front of her Abby would not eat, the only small success had apparently been the rice pudding. Myra wondered how Abby had gotten a chance to try it, noticing for the first time that Robb was wearing his breeches.

She frowned "How long have I been asleep for?"

"A while, my little dragon… It's a just after noon." He nestled his scruffy cheek against her smooth shoulder. "Mal had insisted on seeing Abby… Rickon had too, though he looked to be more concerned with you. They brought breakfast and lunch with them and I brought them the little squirrel…"

"You stayed in here that entire time?" he nodded "Why did you not wake me?"

"There was no rousing you, my love… besides I had excellent company," he leaned forward to brush his lips against Abby's head before resting back at Myra's shoulder again "…and apparently some 'Hand of the Queen' had ordered that we not be disturbed for more than meals or disasters…"

"Oh." Myra quickly tried to explain "That title… of Hand of…"

She could feel his smile as he kissed her skin "Don't worry yourself, love. If I'm expected to have one why should you not be as well… though I do not see myself with a Hand for some time…"

Myra nodded "The practice is odd for the North, and you do carry out most of your own orders, and we are more spread out…"

"And I have no idea who I would name…" Robb sighed gruffly, causing Myra to turn her eyes to his dark brown hair, which was all that she could see from her position "If I could, I would name Jon or even Bran, if he were old enough…

"I was thinking of Dacey Mormont or either Wyman or Wylis Manderly…" he went on after a pause, "they have their wits about them and can…" he cut himself off abruptly, his fingers stopped moving over Abby's hair.

"Can…" Myra trailed off trying to make him go on.

He was struggling with something, the way he was being quiet she knew he was focussing on a particular thing and that thing had to be Abby. Myra could just feel it.

"Do you know my father did not ask for Theon? Nor did King Robert. After his failed rebellion Balon Greyjoy just gave him over…" Robb was speaking so quietly Myra could barely hear him over the sound of the crackling fire and Abby's feeding "… My father would have thought ill of ripping a child away from their kin. He would have been right. A monstrous thing to do. When… before you told me, I would think of all reasons you would not want to touch me 'a child stealer, a killer, a brute'… I thought of all the horrible things I have done, I still think of them and I think of Mal and Abby and if anyone tried to… I would not rest, I would not stop until…" she could sense his stormy fury as he bit his words out.

She was unsure of what to say. "But you had to, it…"

He interrupted her with a scoff "Did I? I wonder if it is worth it. For these enemies I have made in the South. The Houses I have taken from would not forget this, and I think how stupid I am for creating this situation for our heir, where generations of Southern families we have hurt can know the ways North."

Myra tried again, "After all that happened with Theon, I can…"

"I should have known better…" he gritted out.

"You do know better…"she raised her free hand to pull at his chin. "You do know better Robb." He finally sat up turning reluctantly to face her, though his head hung down to stare at his crossed legs.

"Aside from Myrcella, you have not sent the children to the Great Houses, they have no idea how assess to strategic locations in the North and they have the care they need… " Abby began dozing off her mouth had become lax as she snuggled into the cushion of Myra's breasts. Myra held her free arm out to Robb, curling her fingers and gesturing for him to come closer. He leaned forward slowly, letting Myra knot her fingers into his hair, as she slid to lay down flat and pulled him along with her, letting a sleeping Abby nestle between them. Myra gave his head a quick tug to make him look at her "I have never thought of you as any of things that you called yourself, Robb. For the simple reason that you are not any of them. You did what you could with what you had…"

His grey eyes gleamed with water, his hand resting against his napping daughter's back. He went on telling Myra of worst fears he suffered, of the terror he felt of failing his people. His estimations had been calculated and now he had to hope that the Lords and Ladies had not fallen too far behind in their stores since the war. He had sent out ravens with Jon's news, and was now waiting for exact numbers, though within the week he would likely have to order dragonglass from across the Narrow Sea.

Myra had asked if they should warn the South. When Robb said he had already decided on doing so she had smiled and leaned in to kiss his lips.

"Though perhaps wait until our glass has arrived…" she spoke against his mouth. Pulling away wearing a abashed expression, Robb's soft grey eyes simply took her in for a moment, before he smiled.

"I thought the exact same, little dragon. We can't have the wealth of the South stealing away our weapons. They might help us but we cannot afford to assume that..." He pushed her messy silver hair away from her face "Such choices... they are awful are they not?"

She nodded into the caress of his hand as he cupped her cheek. "But you do not have to make them alone. I am here please tell me what you are doing…"

"I will but the walls have ears, my love. No doubt whisperers in the South already say we have been in bed all day today."

"Well then…" Myra frowned resting on her elbows "we'll just have to keep our voices down won't we?" careful not crush Abby, Myra moved to kiss him again more forcefully. "I have been thinking…"

"Yes" he pecked his lips against her, clearly his mind was moving to activities other than talking.

So Myra sat up, making sure not to wake Abby. She wrapped the loose bed sheet under her arms to be sure he would focus. "We are meant to be talking."

"You kissed me!" he scoffed with amused disbelief as he sat up again.

"Hardly my fault, you are too difficult to resist." She teased.

A wolfish smile spread across his lips, his eyes darkened, drawing himself closer he kissed her deeply, breathlessly, Myra eyes fell shut "So are you, my little dragon" he panted, pressing his forehead against hers. "Taste to damn good to believe" she felt his tongue lap at her neck.

She heard the sound of scratching, shaking her head she opened her eyes "We are going to talk…"

"Of course, I am not about to bed you with our daughter right there …" he mocked. "I just had to taste…" his teeth scraped gently at her shoulder.

"I think the pup wants to get out…" Myra struggled to say, she was completely flushed when Robb moved to see what she was talking about. Getting up he opened the door to let the fast-growing white pup out.

Still wrapped up Myra picked up Abby, who had woken again and was now looking for distractions instead of a feeding. Myra heard her stomach grumble causing Robb to chuckle as he picked up Abby's teething bone from her crib. He also brought a cup of water and a plate of eggs and sausages over from the small table in the room.

"Eat" he stated, taking Abby as he sat down on the bed. "Please, my little dragon, speak."

And speak Myra did.

She told him of the torn piece of paper she had found in the library, of Sansa affinity for Tyrion, of Myrcella's helping her daily despite the Princess' suddenly gloomy disposition, of the contents of Jaime's letters, of her fears over what Osha had said about the land beyond the Wall. She spoke of Bran's voice breaking, of what stories Mal had told him of his mother, of Rickon growing attached to Sansa who looked so much like Lady Catelyn.

They had lain Abby down in her crib for a nap, were sat up heaving in each other's laps, as they caught they're breath her eyes absently floating over his body. Myra had been keeping him focused for a good while but she had cracked… now as she looked at him brand new thought entered her mind. She traced the scar over his heart, then did the same with her own… she kissed the scar on his right collarbone, her fingers running over his healed arrow punctures as she wrapped her arms around him tightly and told him of the red-eyed dreams.

She could tell Robb was worried, though he assured her that if they belonged to the priestess at the Wall both Bran and Jon could take of themselves. Suggesting however that she should perhaps tell Bran of what she saw.

* * *

Dinner had coming and gone, now the night was wearing on "Oh!" her voice was hoarse as she remembered.

Myra had just finished feeding Abby again, Robb was resting his head in her lap, he had taken the babe to lay on his chest as soon as she had drifted off.

Robb lifted his brow in interest "More?"

Myra smiled faltered as she looked at her husband "I suppose I have gone on fo…"

"I was joking." He laughed his grey eyes lighted with humour. "Go on."

Playing with his shaggy hair Myra smiled warmly at him, his eyes fluttered closed as she massaged his head "Before… what I was thinking was that, gods be good, it will be Abby's first name-day in three moons." Robb groaned a little when she rubbed just below his ear "Sansa has led me to believe that Abby will receive expensive gifts and elaborate trinkets…" Robb nodded his brow creased as Myra worked out the tension in his neck. "What if instead of all of the expense of them coming here to have an exhibition they give half of whatever they were going to spare for Abby's gift to train or arm their people, teach them to be ready or at least give them something to repair their crumbling homes with so they can prepare for Winter… or give half or all of whatever they may have given over to you to spend on the dragonglass. Though I do not think it would be much, it may likely be nothing, we can still invite them, but if they cannot afford it then there is no sense in forcing… What is wrong?"

She had stopped moving her fingers, her violet eyes had shifted to Abby's resting form while she had been talking, now they found Robb staring up at her with a strange expression.

"You're brilliant."

"Oh, is that all?" she joked.

"I mean it" he stated his eyes turned steel with conviction, slowly not to wake Abby he got up face to face Myra "The Lords and Ladies would still have to be invited to Winterfell, a feast will have to be ordered. I'm afraid they would take it as insult for us to assume they could not afford to meet us."

"Well just let's not invite any of them. Tell them Winter is Coming." Myra huffed, annoyed by the interferences of pride, Robb opened his mouth to speak but before he could she spoke for him "I know. I know. Gatherings such as feasts strengthen ties, reinforce allegiances and gives a chance to take in the happenings of the regions of the Kingdom." She recited, jutting her chin out like Rickon or Mal might.

Pinching her chin between his hardened fingers he laughed more lightheartedly than he had done in sometime.

* * *

After been prompted to stand, and bounce and speak an exhausted Abby had taken her finally feeding for the day and had fallen asleep in Robb's arms before he took her to the crib. Now as the castle came to rest, the couple lay in bed, tired from talking and loving, revealing themselves.

"Sansa found blue winter roses blooming in the glass garden..." Myra spoke, after having spent a considerable amount of time listening to Robb's heartbeat under her head and drawing soft patterns on his skin in the waning firelight.

"Mmmm..." he murmured sleepily against the silver hair that he had piled up to his nose.

"She said the..."

Robb's chest rumbled with a groan before he shifted her weight off of him so that her head rested on her own pillow. Rolling on to his side to face her, his bleary grey eyes barely open. "You want a story don't you, little dragon?"

Myra bit her bottom lip as she smiled and nodded excitement flickering in her violet gaze.

With a huff he muttered "All right..."

Missing his embrace Myra rolled to face away from him, wriggling closer to pressed her back against his chest, she reached behind her body pulling his willing arm to wrap securely around her form. She felt his mouth quirk in a smile against the back of her neck.

He started telling the tale of Lord Brandon Stark's daughter being stolen away by Bael the Bard, the eventual King-Beyond-the-Wall.

Lord Brandon had accused the Wilding leader of being a coward so under the guise of Sygerrik of Skagos deceitful Bael climbed over the Wall and came to Winterfell, where he impressed Lord Stark with his musical talents and was offered a reward. The Bard asked for the most beautiful flower blooming in Winterfell and thinking of the blue winter rose Lord Stark agreed, however the next morning Brandon's daughter was gone and all that was left in her bed was a blue winter rose. A bastard was born when the daughter returned and the boy was a legitimatized as an heir to Winterfell.

"If the blood of the First Men in us was thinning at least it was renewed then..." the pads of his calloused fingers trailed over the softness at her belly as he went on about the new heir to Winterfell. An heir who eventually killed his own Wilding father and who did not have a happy ending himself, being flayed by the Boltons in their rebellion. Myra could keep from shivering as she thought of that pale, puffy lipped man. Robb's soothing ice filled breath brushed against her shoulder, as he pushed passed that unhappy subject.

Moving to hundreds of years later, but still years before he had been born, telling of the wreath that Rhaegar Targaryen had given to his Aunt Lyanna. The flowers crowned her as the 'Queen of Love and Beauty', over Rhaegar's own wife, at the fateful Harrenhal tourney and made up the garland of roses around the statue of his Aunt in the crypts under Winterfell.

"It's strange…" Myra yawned as his story came to an end.

"What is?" his legs tangled more securely with hers.

"It seems as though it should have happened hundreds of years ago but it all only just happened…"

Robb's nose nuzzled at Myra's neck as he nodded "Winter came years ago, but it seems too soon for it to have come again…"

Myra sighed, her drowsiness was overtaking her, but she knew what he meant. It was too soon, too soon to handle. Her fingers entwined with his on her stomach… too soon to hope. "I love you my great, big wolf."

The flat of his teeth dug gently against her skin, "Again."

"I love you."

"Again, little dragon" his soft voice echoed in her ear, his teeth nipping her earlobe.

"I…" his lips captured hers in an airless kiss that made Myra bones melt.

"I love you too." His smile pressed against passion swollen lips, as his darkened eyes meet hers and they crashed into one another to be whole again.

* * *

**Haven't seen this week yet. Hoping it's following the upward trend the season's been on lately. Let me know what you think. Enjoy opinions :)**


	23. Chapter 23: Cause

**Hey all! Hope everybody's all right. Thank you all for the support. I love the feedback! This is a LONG one. Hopefully you like it and forgive my horrible editing.**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Three – Cause**

"So I told the traveller his mother was a piss filled slag…"

"That wasn't very smart…"

"I think upon further consideration you will find that it actually was, my little dragon…"

Following a lengthy pause a preoccupied Myra stated. "For your purposes I suppose so… Robb!" she suddenly exclaimed, turning to face her husband's playfully hurt face.

He had come into the library just as Myra had started replying to a letter from Jaime. As per usual he had mentioned his longing to get out of 'the stinking dry heat' and live by or at least see the ocean again, professing that he wanted to witness the look on a person's face when they saw it's peaks for the first time. Still it had been yet another interesting letter, for in it he had described a woman… a bride that he had to fight his way to. Perplexed by Jim's odd use of words that she had ultimately turned back to the letter in her hands after allowing Robb to crown her with a wreath and kiss her when he found her in the library.

Robb poked around the room and the desk for a while as he waited, but eventually he had grown tired of her distraction, taking her seat and forcing her to sit on his lap.

When she had tried to scold him, he insisted that his left eye was still sore even though had been three months since he had purposely hurt it. He nestled the clearly healed side of his face against her slightly milk engorged bosom, holding her tightly around the waist. The dark haired King would not leave her despite Myra mentioning that Abby and Mal might have been in need of him.

But all he did was shake his shaggy haired head against her chest and state that the children were with Sansa and the wolves. Foiling Myra's attempts to finish writing without him disrupting her thoughts… something which he excelled at by simply being in the same room as her.

So to appease him as she scribbled away, Myra let his calloused fingers roam her back and play with her silver hair while she absently asked about how he, 'the King of Winter', had managed to get someone to dare to attack his person.

He pointed out that very few smallfolk had ever seen him up close, so blending in among the crowd at a tavern had been simple enough and finding a fight had been even easier.

As he had been explaining how Ser Markem Poole had pulled him out of the sticky spot, Robb's nose nuzzled at the back of her neck. Innocently at first, though she felt warmth gathering low in her belly, as of late she had felt her urges towards him and for him growing…

Winter was coming and she would never take that for granted, more than ever family seemed important. Robb had Lord Wylis Manderly to assess the dragonglass being purchased rather than going himself, as preliminary check for position as the Hand…

Regardless of the reason Myra could barely contain her joy at Robb's staying with her from popping up all over the place in the most uncouth ways.

A few weeks ago the scent of his cloak had no long been enough to comfort her and she spent the entirety of almost a fortnight hugging, messaging, crawling, climbing and leaning on him all throughout the day and night. A month ago he had habitually licked one of his fingers clean while eating… he had to have sensed her gaze darken, they barely excused themselves before she practically dragged him out of the hall into the nearest alcove she could find. Myra had been surprised that he had no bruises from how hard she had slammed him into the wall before she had wrapped her legs around him.

Only four days passed since she had pulled him and his tongue into bed on five separate occasions. Then just yesterday, perhaps in the worst possible place some fervour overtook her when they had been speaking alone in an empty hall near the Sept, where anyone rounding a corner could have seen them. They had been about to part ways as he was going to take Sansa out for a discussion about her husband's supposed and impending arrival. Something about the growling sound he made as he pulled away from kissing Myra goodbye caused her thighs to turn to jelly and centre to become hot liquid. She craved the Winter in his blood, and she took it then and there.

But still Myra was convinced that she could handle it on this day, keeping her violet attention focussed on the parchment in front of her… until she felt that tug at the laces of her dress which had caused her to turn and cry out again when he did not stop. "Robb!"

"I had to get your attention…" he pouted, though a smile pulled at the corners of his warm grey eyes. His battle worn fingers slowly eased their way under the loosened fabric, causing her to shiver through her shift.

"You always have my attention…" she pecked his lips with a kiss, trying to move his wandering hands away from the laces of her dress.

"But I miss when I cannot see you…" his tugged gently at her bottom lip.

She pulled away to look at him properly, to make him look "You can see me now."

"Hmm?" his directed his attention to pulling her dress further apart.

"Stop!" her violet eyes widened, her hands clamped down on his.

"You didn't mind yesterday in the hall…" he mumbled gruffly pressing his stubble framed lips against the flush running up her neck.

"That wa- wah…" she gasped as he sucked at the pulse at her throat.

"What was that, little dragon?" His tongue lapped at her skin as he spoke, driving her mad.

"Gods I don't care." She crashed her lips against his, dropping everything, just wanting to be as near him as she possibly could be.

* * *

"Mal, you do know what we are doing for Abby's name-day?" Myra asked eyeing the young prince, who looked so much like Robb, as he pretended to attack the 'red-stone' Lannisters with the 'orange-stone' Martells on the map of Westeros that he was supposed to be learning on.

The dark-haired boy nodded, petting Nola's grey head when she rested it on the courtyard table next to his 'battlefield'. There was a thwack of arrows in the background as Rickon began his lessons in archery with Ser Halis and Robb, who had taken time away from his usual distraction of Abby pointing or babbling at things. He had wept when she had taken her first step and had been as taken with any almost words that the babe started on.

"Look girl!" Mal excitedly explained the battle plan to his fast growing female direwolf "Just like Poppa. Right Ma?" He beamed across the table at Myra as he happily scrubbed at Nola's fur.

Myra could not keep from returning her son's grin, though she wanted nothing more than to make sure that Mal stayed away from any sort of battle, she set aside the ash twigs she had been using to craft Sansa a proper Hand of the Queen badge. "Let me see…" she looked over the rather simple but effective looking strategy Mal had laid out.

The boy had become obsessed, having heard men and women around Winterfell who still talked about and marvelled at his father's keen sense for fighting and plotting battles. Robb may have become King of the North, but the legends and songs of 'the Young Wolf' were sure to remain attached to him all his life... and even after.

As the tales stood now they were enough to make Mal try all he could to match everything that Robb did. Through Robb's old cloak Myra felt Grey Wind brush by to stand at her back, letting her lean against his warmth.

"It's brilliant Mal." She decided giving the map a final glance before looking up at the boy. He had managed to work out a battle that could be a success, so long as his ideal circumstances remained as they were... theoretical, but a success nonetheless.

She smiled at the grey-eyed boy, who was now looking at her with his lips pursed "I want mine to be like Abby's name-day…" he stated as though it was the plainest fact in the world, Myra took a second to realize that he had changed the subject as he went on "My Mama and Uncle Aldric and Auntie Abby and me… we… need it…" he spoke slowly, evidently having trouble figuring out exactly how to express what he was trying to say.

But he didn't need to, Myra knew, she knew what it was to be one of thousands living literally unnoticed and unacknowledged in the realm. Often considered as less than important, if considered at all.

"My mother too…" pride shone in violet eyes as Myra reached out to squeeze Mal's hand on the table. Holding his hand for an elongated moment… her eyes and grin slowly widened as she began counting "One. Two. You better run…" she smiled as Mal started to catch on and pulled out of her grip.

"Wait! Wait!" he squealed, both laughing and panicked as he struggled to get out from between the bench and table.

"Three. Four. Five. Here I come!" she shouted, racing through the courtyard, giggling and grabbing a hold of Mal tickling him before running away herself. Grabbing people as barriers and tapping an initially confused Myrcella, who quickly grasped the concept of the game, left aside her recently acquired melancholy mood and joined in along with Rickon when he abandoned his bow and quiver.

"Little Pup no!" Myra cried as Rickon patted her on the shoulder, before he laughed and ran to hide behind kind Jeyne Poole's and Sansa's skirts. "That won't keep you safe!"

"Run!" the red-haired girl, holding Abby in her arms, urged her little brother with a musical chuckle as Myra neared. The boy scurried to behind Robb's legs, the same hiding place that Mal had found.

"Not safe there either boys." Myra threatened.

"Don't worry" Robb reassured the children clinging to him, with a smirk he caught Myra's small form in his strong arms.

"Not fair…" she frowned. His smile met her soft lips in a kiss.

"Poppa!"

"Brother!"

Both the boys called out respectively in distaste.

Robb pulled back with his grin in place as his grey eyes looked over her scowling face.

"Still not fair…"

"Not fair! Not fair! Not fair!"

Myra stepped back laughing into her hands along with Sansa, who was still holding Abby, Jeyne and Myrcella. Watching as Robb was weighed down to the muddy ground by a pair of chanting boys, who he had only recently been trying to defend.

* * *

There was no doubt in her mind today was the day. At almost four months without her moon's blood, she knew it was time to tell him. Even before confirming it with Beena or Maester Loel. The fact that she was keeping another possible gift from Robb had been weighing on Myra heavily. She wanted him to be the first person she told, who knew after her. Especially after all that had happened with Rian, she never wanted him to be in the dark again.

While this had been nagging at the back her of her mind, the matter that had forced her over the edge was that of Jaime's reply to her letter. Amongst his talk of the sea he warned her once again, as he always did, of the dangers of his brother, his sister and the dragons rising in the East. He said that fear and fire were coming, but that Myra was loved by her people which meant more than any fear or flame, that he knew from experience. She understood his worries over the dragons, he had been given the name 'Kingslayer' for a reason, the real threat of a daughter's revenge would likely fill anyone with a sense of dread but Myra had trouble grappling with why she should have any reason to fear the Targaryen heir across the sea… Myra had done nothing to hurt the would-be Queen, she was not a threat, she was a Stark… surely she had no reason to fear.

What was more interesting was that while addressing her worries over his being injured in some sort of fight and if the bride that he had mentioned was indeed his or someone else's, Jaime had simply stated he would rather say in person… but that there was no else he could think to tell, right in this moment, other than her.

This was what was running through her mind that evening as she sat on their bed, her legs crossed as she scratched behind Grey Wind's ear as he peaked over the edge of the bed from the floor. She had been sifting through the pile of presents and letters that had arrived for the Princess' and Prince's name-days for hours, writing thank notes and checking to see who would be come to feast at Winterfell.

Robb had entered the chamber with a bang, startling Myra out of her stupor. He was holding Abby to his chest, the babe had clearly dozed off to sleep as she had been doing earlier and earlier as the months wore on. It remained though that even the largest commotion would not wake her if she had fallen asleep in her father's arms.

Before he closed the door Silver trailed in after him, moving to burrow her way to lie under Grey Wind's huge form on the floor.

Though Myra had smiled at Robb when he had entered, after the shock of his entry, she noticed that his face immediately transformed into a frown as he looked in her direction.

"What's that?" He bit out as he rested Abby in her cradle.

"Letters, one from Greatjon asking for permission to marry Lady Lyra Mormont…" Myra ran her fingers over the packages and parchment, noting that yet to arrive was a reply from Bran about her dreams "… and rest are for the name-days an…"

"No…" he grey eyes were like rigid stones, as he nodded at her actual appearance from his place next to Abby's crib. "That." He pointed at her left shoulder "What is that?" his voice was like steel and his grey eyes were fixed directly on her violet ones as he spoke.

Myra frowned looking down at her state to see what could be wrong "Oh… a gift" she touched the red fabric, irresistibly woven and lined with black patterns "… someone was aware of my nameday as well… ah, Lady Dustin I believe…" Myra nodded to herself as she tried to recall while examining the patterned cloth, she had found it strange to remembered but was flattered, it was the only nameday gift she had gotten that had not been from her mother or Robb.

"Take it off." His voice broke hard through the air causing Myra violet gaze to lift to meet his as she filled with yet more confusion. The intensity in his stony grey glare was lost on her.

"She said an even wedded lady should at least have her house's colours…" Myra tried to explain, as the line in Robb's jaw continued to tighten. "I think she meant it kindly and it fits wel…"

In three wide stomping steps he had moved to stand in front her "I said take it off." He ripped the cloak from Lady Dustin off Myra's shoulders, picking the old black cloak of his that Myra had been wearing up off of the bed where she had laid it, wrapping it around her shoulders. Robb pulled her up with the fabric to her kneel up on the edge of bed so that she leaned against his standing body. "You're mine. These are your colours now."

Myra blinked at him for a moment, everything he had done seemed to have happened so quickly that she did not react as fast as he appeared to want.

"Nod." He directed her, nodding his head for her to follow. Which she did, albeit slowly. "You're mine." He stated for her to repeat, leaning his forehead against hers, his fists pulling the cloak to cradle her body closer to his. His mouth was so close she could taste it, his warm exhales bathing her hot skin. Licking her chapped lips, she wondered briefly if she should be angry, flattered or amused.

"Who else's would I be?" she wanted to scoff, torn between closing the gap between them and shoving him away.

"No one's. Say it." He shook her a little, bowing his head so that his lips and teeth bit at her right earlobe.

The burning in her stomach blazed through her veins now "I'm yours. I'm yours. I'm yours…" she repeated as he lifted his head. He made a sound like a snort, his grey eyes were softer now and he was smiling with as though something comical had happened. As the heat in her simmered down and she drank him in Myra realized that had it had all been comical. He had gotten so riled up over a swatch of fabric.

"Even though I'm foolish beastly boy at best?" He rolled his grey eyes at his own behaviour and breathed out a weary breath.

"At best…" she sniggered a bit with her tongue between her teeth, winding her arms around his neck to playfully tug at his messy dark hair.

With a soft groan Robb sighed, his fists still coiled around his old cloak, holding her close "It suits you…" he winced at the red and black cloth strewn on the bed.

"This" she shrugged her shoulders, drawing his attention back "suits me." She sniffed the collar, looking back at him as he lifted a hand to gently tuck some silver strands of hair behind her ear "It's you. And I am yours after all…" the roughened thumb of the hand that he had lifted, softly traced over her cheek as his cool grey eyes studied her face.

Dropping her violet stare downwards, she took a small breath before going on "This babe though, I can ask it be both of ours?" Myra felt his thumb stop ghosting over her skin "I don't mind belong wholly to foolish beastly boy. You don't mind belonging to a silly girl, do you?" she lifted her head to see Robb gaping at her. "But both for this babe…"

His hand slipped down her neck causing her to stop mid sentence, his glossy eyes scanned her face in astonishment. "Truly?"

Biting her lip she nodded "Four moons I think…"

Smiling on the brink of laughing his mouth collided with hers "the sillier the better…" he hugged her closed, his nose pressed into the nape of her neck, "I love you my little dragon. Gods! I love you."

* * *

This was all really happening. Robb's voice was all that the babe would hear, she could only guess that the child heard the same tales that the grey-eyed King had whispered to Abby before she had been born.

Myra's fingers would stroke his soft dark hair, and she would wonder if she was dreaming. Was it possible that so soon? The gods had decided that so soon she would be ready for this task again?

And even if the gods had decided, Myra was unsure. When her stomach had started to swell at seven moons she would wake in the middle of the night. Something which had stopped happening when Robb had returned to her, was happening once again even in his presence.

She would clutch her stomach to be sure the babe was still there, checking between her legs to make sure that she had not lost this child.

Robb would wake as well, his head usually at her stomach, was jostled at her sudden movement or his protective limbs wrapped around her form would shift at her panic.

Sometimes he would suggest they visit Mal, or take a walk with Abby. Sometimes he would just hold her close. But most often he would shush her back to sleep. Tell her stories that he knew, tell her his fears for the people… with the Winter, with frost and snow would come the true terror. The dragonglass had been brought over as discreetly as possible as to not alert Southern suspicion and been divvied up among the houses to be forged into brittle weapons.

While they should not have been as comforting as his stories were, Myra found solace in his fears. His fingers would trail the bloat in her belly and she would know that he was afraid too. She would not feel so alone, she would feel relief.

On the day that she could no longer hide from Mal or Rickon that she was having another baby Mal had gotten so excited, Myra had barely stopped him from running to tell the whole fortress "We will just wait…"Myra calmed him, glad that the Great Hall was empty in that moment "a little bit longer, my love…"

"For my brother!" Mal breathed enthusiastically failing wonderfully at being subtle.

"Maybe…" Myra grinned, dodging Shaggydog's black form when he suddenly bolted through the Great Hall, probably having seen or smelt a rodent. "Little Pup…" Myra turned her attention to a frowning Rickon, who had yet to speak.

"You have to teach me how to shoot."

Myra's raised her silver brow in confusion "Why, if you want me to I ca…"

"Bran got to! And I should too!" Rickon dark eyes fell accusingly to Mal "It's all your FAULT!"

"Rickon!" Myra exclaimed unsure of where this outburst was coming from.

The boy, with light brown hair like her mother's, hung his head and spoke quietly to his feet "You'll have another baby and…"

"Oh Little Pup come here…" Myra tone immediately softened and her heart ached as she tried to reach for her hurting brother.

"NO!" he shouted, pulling out of Myra's grip.

"Rickon." Mal said now. "Ma won't love you any less or forget you…" Myra violet focus now turned to the grey-eyed boy standing next to her as he repeated the same words she had told him so many months ago.

"It's true… you are my brother Rickon. I did not mean to make you feel as though you were not important to me…" she looked at the wildest of the Stark children, moving to kneel and be closer to his eye level as she spoke, so that he understood that she meant all that she said "you are very important to me. You're my Little Pup. Nothing will ever change that." She watched as his lips continued to tremble, though the tension in his body began to unclench. Myra held out her arms as he walked a few steps nearer to her.

With a sniff he nodded, not quite coming into her arms "Only I'm not so Little." He puffed out his chest and jutted out his chin.

"Quite so…" Myra nodded, looking at him with serious consideration and admiration. "Though I do not think I could give up the name all together." She tapped her pebbled chin "Would Pup suit you?"

He nodded again.

"Can I hug you?" She asked.

The way he nodded this time told her that he had been wanting a hug.

"Come here." She smiled. Rickon took a calming gasp in her embrace, going on to tell Mal of exactly why he wanted Myra to teach him to shoot. Recounting the frightening night that Theon had overtaken Winterfell when Myra and Osha had saved both he and Bran.

"Wow!" Mal's grey eyes moved to Myra in wonder as Rickon spoke.

"I think you're exaggerating Pup…"

"No…" Rickon shook his brown-haired head "It was amazing!" went on wide-eyed, describing the events to Mal.

There was a soft clatter that caught Myra attention in one of the shadowy passages at the back of the Great Hall leading to the kitchens. Making sure that Mal and Rickon would be alright while she went to check, Myra moved towards the passage.

"Hello there?" She called.

She heard a small whimper, rushing now Myra went into the passage. She forced out the thoughts of Ramsay Bolton which to this day still flitted through mind when she passed by a darkened hall. He was long gone, no longer to be feared… yet Myra rejoiced every time that his ghoul did not make an appearance.

This clatter had been a black haired maid… Lena. Myra remembered her name from her days baking in the kitchen. Lena had been quiet and sweet, she could not have been more than Myra's own age. She had given Myra the suggestion for a sweet spice to add to her mother's lemon cake recipes. The other most prominent memory Myra had of Lena was that she was graceful and attentive, not one to drop things or make a ruckus.

"Your Grace!" Lena moved faster, when she realized that Myra was approaching her. There was the sound of scraping ceramic.

"Are you alright?" Myra asked with some concern, kneeling to help Lena pick up the pieces of the jug she had been carrying. Something was wrong, the girl was shaking and frantic as she tried collecting the sharp pieces. "Lena?"

"I'm so sorry Your Grace. I… I…"

Myra rested her hand over the quivering maid's, "Stop. You'll hurt yourself…" The girl stopped though her head drooped low "Please look at me."

"Your Gr…"

"Please. Myra. Just Myra. We've cooked together, we are the same age…"

"Your Grace." Lena stuck to the title, though her brown eyes lifted to face Myra "I'm sorry. My mind was just… it just slipped…"

Myra responded with a gentle smile "It's just a jug Lena…"

"Worth more than I am…"

"No." Myra shook her head honestly, squeezing Lena's hand and making sure to meet her eye when she spoke, "Though is something wrong?" her violet gaze took in the girl before her, noticing that Lena's brown eyes filling with water "Maybe I can help?" Myra offered, pained by the vulnerability in the maid's expression.

"I do not see how, Your Grace."

"Well…" Myra encouraged, with Robb's cloak wrapped around her shoulders as a cushion for her bottom, she settled herself on the stone floor "we will only know if you tell me…"

And tell her Lena did… About the man who said that he loved her, who left her with a baby in her belly. A baby that she did not want to give up but would have to so that she could keep working as maid or else a baby that she would have to work in brothels to support. Myra found her fingers roaming her own stomach as she leaned against the wall of the hall next to Lena. She wondered what she would do in Lena's situation, with no options, with no support, no Robb…

"I always wah… want to be a mother. Teach my daughter how to sing. Have a son to scold…" Lena voice began cracking and her eyes started to water again. "Oh…" the maid exclaimed when a new figure approached them.

Silver had found them, terrifying Lena, but with her wolf's familiar weight resting against her it only became more clear to Myra what it was that she had to do.

"I promise you, you child will be taken care of…" the silver-haired girl stroked her wolf's shiny fur.

"But not by me…" Lena relented, with sad gasp, looking away from Myra.

"No. If you want to be a parent Lena, I could never tell you not to be…" Myra gulped past the loss of mothering Rian beyond the day of his birth. "Your child is yours, and will be yours if you want…" she nodded as Lena faced her skeptically, "you carry on working as you do and there will be a place for your babe to be cared for while you do…" Myra head started spinning with plans and ideas for what could be "if you are happy and sure that you are able to raise your child while keeping the wage from this work… food and clothing and I suppose a rest just before and after you give birth…" Myra spoke on mostly speaking her stream of ideas out to herself now.

"Anything to keep out of a brothel…" Lena's wavering voice drew Myra's attention back "… bu- but you are too kind and my child will…"

"Will bear the name Snow. As my first son did as any true child of the North does… there is no shame in a name, as there is no shame in wanting to parent a child or in having one... no matter how it came about…" she gave Lena's hand another supportive squeeze "There is always something new to learn and the people of the North will have to learn the value of their children and…" Myra shook her head thinking of her own mother as she took a in a shaky breath "I'm not too kind. It is my job to look after who I can… I am your Queen" she stated, for the first time the title did not have trouble passing her lips.

The young maid's eyes could no longer hold the water pooling in them as she looked at the violet eyed girl. Myra smiled and wiped Lena's cheeks "It seems I have a project to discuss with my Hand."

* * *

_He said that it was what he needed. She brought along a nervous girl with her. It is strange though the serving girl kneels before weirwoods while her Lady follows the Seven. I think it was meant to be. The poor woman, trembling at the smallest sound. Though I suppose after all that her __brother__ half-brother had done to her… My lord had her hair coloured dark, but it looks as glowing as his at the scalp. I thought of travelling up there with them, the last place anyone guess. __So close to home__. She looked so tiny to me, not as far along but he said it must be twins or more… I don't know. Twice her size already. I wonder how the Tully girl took to it. Ned… Once everything is worked out I'm sure he will let me back… even after Brandon and father he will let me come back. So will... When you read this_… the writing had been scribbled out and ripped away.

"Love?" Robb's voice called, cutting through the heavy quiet that filled her head.

Myra was hardly able to process what she had read let alone the fact she was being addressed. In her hands just past the slight eight month bloat in her stomach, was a tattered volume of torn pages and shredded leather binding from that corner in the library that Grey Wind had once inspected, Myra's tongue felt thick and she found herself struggling with words. She felt numb though her husband's humongous yellow-eyed wolf had his warmth coiled around her, keeping the steady cold growing in this corner on the ground from reaching her.

All Myra could do was raise her silver head to look at her waiting husband standing by the open window. When she did not say anything his dark brow furrowed quizzically, as he explained the reason for his interruption, jerking his dark-haired head back towards the open window cut into the stone behind him.

"It's snowing."

* * *

**Again sorry about editing. Sad about missing episode this week :( Oh well.**

**Time to split the story again looks like. YAY! Right?**

**Hope everyone's doing well.**


	24. Chapter 24: Author's Note

**Author's Note**

Hey! Posted start of Part III: '_Ice and Fire_'

Thanks for the support. Lookin' at you brandibuckeye and everyone else who keeps me going with their words (sorry for not mentioning all of the names). I read every piece of it.

You all stop it from feeling pointless.

So thank you. I love you all.


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